How To Save A Life
by littlekittybangbang
Summary: Dr. Chapman is a leading neurosurgeon completely focused on her career, with no time for life's frivolities. Alex, a paramedic, is a frivolity the good doctor finds herself making time for. Vauseman plays doctor. T for now but M is coming. Excuse the pun. Ps. Slooooow burn.
1. Chapter 1

Author Note: This is a planned two shot but I'm not completely closed off to making it longer. Depending on my fitful muse.

Please note I am not a doctor.

This story is less about medical science and more about Vauseman science, which is why we're here right? Anyway, I'm still new to this whole fan fiction posting where everyone can see it and judge it thing, so for the love of Thor please be gentle with me.

* * *

The patient's last name is definitely not Schmeelznbr and that's how I know I've been staring at this chart far too long.

"Cindy, have I ever told you why I hate working Trauma?"

"Twice this shift so far, but have it out. I got nothing better to do."

Cindy leans back in her chair behind the nurse's station and puts her feet up. I'm suddenly jealous of her freedom to recline.

It hasn't even been a hard shift. Thirty-six hours is nothing. My body is so conditioned, I could pull seventy-two if necessary. But it's not the time period – it's the environment.

"I'm not built for this. It's either chaos and blood all over my scrubs and shoes or nothing." I drop the chart back into its holder. Hopefully that's the last patient I just signed off. "Look at this place. It's a graveyard."

"Watch it…"

I pick up the warning tone in Cindy's voice and zip my lips. The superstition is you never talk about how quiet an ER is, because that usually means all hell is about to break loose.

The station becomes a welcome resting place for my elbows as I prop my head up.

"Have you ever been in theater? That's what I'm built for. Every move is calculated and reasoned. There's no yelling, no oceans of blood pooling at your feet… It's just me and millions of electric pathways."

The distinct eye roll I get in response doesn't throw me. I don't expect a nurse to understand anyway. But those pathways are my life. Only two other neurosurgeons in the tri-state area can compare themselves to me, and since I'm younger than them both by more than a decade… I'd say that makes me better.

Eight minutes to my freedom. Eight minutes and my obligatory Trauma rotation is officially over. That's it time, keep on ticking. There's a semi-comfortable standard issue LGH pillow with my name on it.

"A watched pot, Doctor Chapman."

I turn to find John, who was supposed to be working the shift with me but had to take an urgent fifteen minute break… an hour ago. He's all dashing smile and pretty-boy face, but his smooth cheeks and neck still carry a telltale flush. Something tells me that if I were to step closer to him, I'd be able to smell traces of the nurse he just hooked up with.

"I'm heading out. You can hand over to Wash when she gets in."

"Sure, okay. What did I miss?"

"A button."

I bite back my smile as he fumbles with his shirt self-consciously, his suave demeanor fading. Fraternization among staff at Litchfield General is strictly forboten unless declared with human resources, and it's safe to say that Doctor John Bennett is not exactly the declaration of love type of guy.

"Thanks and also, that's not what I meant. I was talking about the cases."

"Oh, you mean I should fill you in on what happened after you disappeared for an hour and left me here alone with a handful of nurses and a clueless third year? I'm so tired right now, but I think I could eek out a visit to the Chief. Report back on misconduct…"

"Chapman, come on."

"Maybe I'm too tired after all."

He's visibly relieved.

"And as far as the cases go…"

"Don't. Chapman, I swear to God."

He can obviously tell where I'm going with this. "It's actually been really _quiet_." Screw him. That's for abandoning me in this godforsaken place.

"I think you'll get through tonight with no major drama. It's so quiet."

I pat him on the shoulder as I move past him, making my way towards the doors that will lead me back to civilization.

"You're the devil!"

There's no looking back, not when I'm so close to freedom, but I throw him a dismissive wave over my shoulder, and just when my hand makes contact with the cool door in front of me, a familiar sigh of automatic doors opening at the opposite end of the room makes me freeze in place.

It's the sound that ushers in the madness of the outside world. It's the sound of Not So Fast, Doctor Chapman.

But no, I'm so close.

Loud voices are talking fast. Urgent commands are ricocheting off the walls behind me.

"Chapman!" John's bellow reaches me when I'm halfway into the sanity that exists outside of Trauma.

I still haven't moved. I'm thinking about whether I would get away with pretending I didn't hear him. Just keep walking until I find an on-call room to duck into. Washington would be here soon enough to help him out. He's more than capable to manage on his own until that moment arrives.

"I mean it, Chapman! Come on!"

"Get the hell off! If Chapman's here, I want her."

This second voice… I recognize it instantly. It's one of the most distinct things about the person it belongs to. Of course it would be her. Because my night wouldn't be properly ruined without at least one cameo from her.

"Chapman!"

Me and my big mouth. In trying to get John some bad luck, I got caught up in it too. That's karma for you.

My feet are carrying me back. Back into the mess of the ER towards the two gurneys that had just been wheeled in. The quiet graveyard is instantly transformed and there's a rush in my ears made up of too many people talking at the same time, their words punctuated with bleeps and shuffles and blood. Always the blood.

John's bending over one patient and so I turn to the other. And then stop. I can barely make out what's happening thanks to the paramedic who's straddling the patient, administering bone crushing chest compressions.

Which brings me to the single worst thing about the ER. Paramedics…

More like renegade cowboys, the way they blast through those doors and throw their weight around. And the dark-haired one… the one who always asks for me by name… the one currently crushing the patient to save the patient… she's the John Wayne of the squad. And I'm in no mood.

"I'll take this one." I practically shove John out of the way.

"No you won't." He motions to the gurney behind me. "Head injury, it's all yours. Okay guys, let's get him up to OR 1."

In seconds they're gone and I have no choice. Here we go. Again.

"What do we have?"

I ask the question out of habit, because I can already see the basics. My heart jolts in my chest. Head injury? _Head injury?_ I can see inside this person's skull!

"White female, approximately 18, GSW to the head and shoulder, through and through over here, no exit on the head." Her voice is strained but she speaks with no breaks in her compressions. "Her asshole boyfriend apparently went off the deep end. Doctor Pretty Boy just wheeled him in but please, tell him not to try too hard."

"Clear off." My voice is as commanding as I can manage in that moment. "I can't get to her."

"No."

"Alex! Move!"

"As much as I love this little dance we do, Doc, we don't have time. Get your ass up here, now!"

She's right. There isn't time to um and ah about it. To call her out about being an ass, to make her bow down as she should, and set her straight about just exactly who is boss in this place. All of that would have to wait.

I clamber up onto the gurney and position myself closely behind her. The flimsy fabric of my scrubs is ineffectual enough to make the sensation of her body glaringly obvious, as she brushes up against me every time she rises and dips with each compression.

"Having fun back there?"

Ugh, she's the worst. I reach around her, not bothering to be kind about shoving her aside so my own hands can take over from hers.

"Got it?"

I'm one of the top surgeons in the state, Alex. "I got it."

She shifts her weight and then carefully dismounts while I take up her spot.

"Let's go," I give the command that would take us to the closest available OR and we start rolling.

"Try not to fuck up our clean sheet!" Her voice reaches me just as we push through the swing doors and when I look up, she's laughing. Like I said, the absolute worst.

* * *

"She totally wants me." I'm smug about it, but still can't stop watching as the blonde gets smaller and smaller down the hallway on the other side of those doors.

"Yeah right. They call her Fort Knox. You don't stand a chance."

"You don't just break into Fort Knox, Nicky. It takes careful planning… patience."

"Two years of it?"

"So that when the moment comes, you don't even have to break in. The doors just swing open out of their own."

"Whatever, I'm too sober for this bullshit. It's the end of our shift. Let's grab a few beers before you cross over to the dark side and it becomes embarrassing to ever be seen with you in public."

I follow her back out, the adrenalin of the drop slowly splintering and leaving my body as I get back out into the icy night air. She's trying to make light of it, what's ahead for me. But Nicky's sarcasm just made the excited-anxious-happy-scared-to-death knot in my stomach so much worse. A few beers would definitely fix that.

* * *

I lost her. It's been a while since I've said those words. The worst part is telling the family. I hate that part, and it's why it doesn't happen on my table. Until tonight. A hot shower and five hours of sleep in an on-call room suddenly didn't cut it for me. So I called Polly and naturally, Big Boo's was her remedy. It always is.

"I can't believe you just threw him out."

"My best friend calls and tells me she needs me... I would do worse things than throw a hot, naked man out of my bed to be there for you, Pipes. Besides, we were done anyway. Pete isn't exactly the kind of guy who gets back up after a fall, if you know what I'm saying."

"Well, look who decided to grace us with her presence! Scooch," Natalie orders Polly to make room for her and she slides into the booth beside her.

Judging by Polly's reaction to the sudden appearance of our head of Cardio, this was planned. I'm not exactly thrilled by the company, I wanted to just have a quiet debriefing, but I know better than to say anything.

"Rough night in the ER. She suggested coffee but thank God my powers of persuasion were on point tonight. Now she can relax like a normal human being."

"Stop talking about me like I'm not here. And I relax all the time. Just because I don't consider ending every shift with a six pack-"

"It's an institution. Don't knock it. How the fuck else are we supposed to get through what we do?" Natalie piped up.

"Not knocking. All I'm saying is, I can think of better things to do with my down time."

"Like sitting at home alone? Going for walks… alone? Reading text books?"

There's a hint of a snark in Polly's voice that grates me. She's always giving me a hard time about being too studious.

"Like focusing on my career and winning awards." I don't mean to sound haughty about it, but that's how it comes out.

"Oh, give me a break." This time it's Natalie's turn to have a go at me. Honestly, how do they think this is making me feel better?

"You keep trying to make me feel like I'm doing something wrong, but remind me how many times _you've_ won the Jenji Kohan award for excellence in your field?"

"Jenji can kiss my ass," Natalie quipped. "I'm a fucking rockstar and I don't need a stupid trophy to tell me as much."

"A stupid trophy that, from what I hear, makes a lousy fuck buddy," Polly added.

The two of them have a good chuckle at my expense and even though these are my peers, my friends, I'm sitting here with my guard up.

"My work fulfills me. I don't need a fuck buddy."

"Everybody needs a good fuck from time to time, Chapman," Natalie chided. "And you bragging about your work right now does nothing other than convince me more than ever that you need to get laid."

"Is sex your answer to everything?"

"Yes. Sex and whiskey," Natalie replied with a wave of a finger to a passing waitress. "Scotch straight up and hold the ice."

"What can I say? I'm just not interested in a relationship right now. I don't have the time."

"We're not talking about relationships, Pipes. None of us have the time. But that doesn't rule out scratching the itch every once in a while. With someone other than yourself, I mean. I'm all for self-love but sometimes it has to be a party of two. You need to get laid. Get off. Have someone screw your brains out good and solid."

"Hey."

The cosmic timing of Alex's appearance at our booth coincides with my sip of beer getting caught in my throat and I choke and splutter my way back to self control with her standing there, smiling down at me.

Surgeons don't mix with the lower rungs of the ladder, and according to us, paramedics don't even make it onto the ladder. I can tell by Natalie's expression especially, that she's not happy with Alex's blatant disregard for this social rule.

"Have you no shame? This is no place for you and your kind."

"Actually, I handed in my badge a couple of hours ago. I'm here in a civilian capacity."

"Handed in your badge?" My plan was to not engage her and hopefully she'd just go away, but her statement catches me off guard and I can't help it.

"Time to move on. You know how it goes."

"Well, thank God for small mercies." It's Polly's turn to jump in. "Maybe with you gone, our patients will be in better shape when they get to us."

"Excuse me?" I don't like her, but I have to admit I'm enjoying the way she's standing her ground with these two. "I'm the one who saves them so you guys can take the credit for it after."

"Save them? You mean butcher them. The guy you brought in a week ago? Two broken ribs! And that happened in the ambulance _after_ he was run over by a car."

"Did he make it?"

"Yes, because I-"

"No, it was because I-"

"Okay, can we call a halt to the pissing contest please?"

All eyes are on me now, and I'm at the point where I don't care about white coats and blue collars. My patient just died under my hands and the last thing I need is to be surrounded by petty squabbling.

"Do you have a problem with the way I do things?"

I look up at Alex and hope my eyes convey my agitation at being dragged into this senseless debate.

"Well… you _can_ be a little aggressive."

"Oh my God, I can't believe you right now."

"It's true."

"Okay, I may not be nice about it, but I get the job done. The past few shifts I've handed people over to you, we haven't lost one. Not one."

"There's one." I don't look at her. The bottle of beer in my hands is far more interesting.

"What?"

The table is finally quiet and I can hear Alex's powers of deduction whirring above my head.

"She was just a kid."

She surprises me for the second time in as many minutes with the sudden change in her tone. Wise-ass to tender-ass in sixty seconds. Maybe she's not an all round renegade…

"Hey Fig, come with me to the bar to get some refills. You want one?"

I look up and Polly's already sliding out of the booth, nudging Natalie along.

"Yeah, I'll come with."

"No, no, you stay. We can manage."

I don't miss the wink she throws at me. I'm pretty sure Alex and Natalie caught it too. Polly isn't really one for subtlety. So she's deliberately leaving me with the crazy paramedic so what, I can hook up with her? My best friend, ladies and gentlemen, who clearly doesn't know my taste at all. Well, it's been so long, I'm not so sure I know my taste anymore, but that's besides the point. They're retreating across the floor to the bar but I'm sure Polly can feel the daggers I'm shooting into her back.

"Mind if I sit?"

I respond with a small nod and of course, find myself having to shift over because instead of taking up the recently vacated seat, Alex has to push in right next to me. The gall of this woman. She smells nice.

"What are you doing here?"

She waggles her beer at me and takes a long swig.

"No, not the bar. I mean here, with me. Isn't that your squad over there?"

"Ex squad. And I've had enough of their company for one night. I was in the mood for something else."

"So you decide to come over here and give me a hard time?"

"What happened to Emma?"

Her eyes and her voice are soft. Her eyes. I've never seen them this up close before. They strike me down.

"Well?"

"There was just too much damage."

"Well fuck."

It gets quiet. Alex fingers the label on her beer, her face clouded over, a million miles away. My eyes can't find anything else to do besides look at her.

"Howcome you're leaving the squad?"

"Oh, this and that."

She looks at me and I just about catch the last of what she's feeling get tucked away neatly, and now she's a cowboy again. Unperturbed by the random cruelty of life.

"Man, I'm so over this." She pushes her beer away and her face is right up in mine. "We can go now."

My heart seems to forget what it's supposed to do. "Go?"

"I came over, said hey… that was a pass. You didn't get that?"

I shake my head slowly No. My face is on fire and my heart still refuses to get its shit together.

"You said I could sit. That wasn't you accepting my pass?"

"Look, I may be socially inept but I'm pretty sure you're making this up, and there was in fact, no hidden sexual connotation that I missed." Or was there? I've been out of the game for far too long clearly.

She laughs out of her throat and the sound makes my breath catch in mine.

"No, there wasn't. But there is now. Well, not so hidden. Whaddya say?"

"This… this act usually works for you?"

"I don't have to try very hard. Usually it's just eye contact and the panties drop."

"Oh my God. You are so full of it."

But I drag my gaze from those blazing eyes anyway. Can't risk it.

"Come on, yes or no? I'm not really into the whole cat and mouse thing."

"Then it's no."

"I'm also not into being shot down either. The right answer is yes, by the way. …What? Why are you looking at me like that?"

"I can't decide if I find this whole thing disgusting, or intriguing…"

"Definitely the second one. I can see it in your eyes."

In that moment it feels like Yes. She looks at me like she sees me. Sees everything. And maybe it's not the worst I could do, as far as irresponsible one night stands go.

"There's nothing wrong with two adults having some fun. Especially after tonight. I know I need it, and according to what I overheard from your colleagues just now, you definitely need it. And you're never going to see me come busting through those ER doors again, so that's a plus."

I'm considering it. Blame it on the untimely death of a teenage girl, an old 80s anthem on the juke making me feel young and invincible, and those eyes…

"I'm gonna go now." Her voice is no more than a throaty whisper and the sound sends spidery chills up my spine. "You can stay here and finish your lukewarm beer, go home and curl up with a book or whatever, or…"

"Or?" It doesn't even sound like me when I say it.

"You can follow me out. Nobody has to know we left together, so your squeaky clean rep will be intact. We go back to your place, I fuck you so hard you won't walk straight for days, and all you'll be able to think about after is how badly you want me to do it again. And we forget about tonight and about kids who die when they're not supposed to. This is the option I'm leaning towards, in case you're wondering."

Only once the pounding in my ears starts to hurt, do I realize I'm not breathing, and only once I see the last of her disappear do I find it in me to start back up again.

I force my body to turn away from the door Alex just exited and I take a steadying breath. According to my calculations, it would be stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid. I don't do stupid things. Especially when they proposition me in a bar.

And yet.

I won't have to see her again, which makes it easier to do the crazy, irresponsible thing and then forget about it. Sex can be great, from what I remember, and yes, relationships in my line of work makes things messy, but this isn't a relationship. This is better than that. And nobody has to know. I get to have what I want with no consequences. Win-win. I down the last of beer, sucking up the last of the courage in the bottle, and slide out of the booth.

* * *

The air is a shock to my system after the stuffy bar, but I'm hardly aware of my face that stings as I step outside.

My feet are heavy so I don't even try to move. I just stand there, my breath making little white clouds in front of me as I search the dark for a tall, smoking hot ex-paramedic who should be waiting for me. But there's no-one.

A spark of panic bursts in my chest, and is quickly hugged into submission by long arms of disappointment. I was too slow in making up my mind. She told me to follow her out and I didn't. I was too Piper about it. I'm always too Piper about everything, and now look. Now stop.

Stop everything.

Because a hand is tugging at mine and her face is smiling as she drags me into the darkness she must've come from, and now her hands are holding me, pinning me against the wall and I can't move but I'm spinning and spinning and I can't breathe but I don't care, and it's fucking freezing out here and I'm on fire, and she's kissing me.

* * *

So this is for Bren, who dared me because she thought I wouldn't. But so I did. How you like me now?


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Wow, um, okay… this fandom though! I know I'm a little late to the OITNB party but I think I'm gonna like it here:) You guys are amazing. Thank you so much for your comments! And thanks to everyone for the favourites and follows too.

In this chapter, italics – apart from the first line – indicate a jump back in time.

* * *

… _and all you'll be able to think about after is how badly you want me to do it again…_

I'm a surgeon. With surgery, everything's clinical, sterile, follows logical reasoning. There's no emotion, no place for the inevitable debris that comes with humans and their insatiable proclivity for disaster.

Humans… they barge in with their messy feelings and strip you down until you're as pathetic as they are.

Her with her eyes of fire and glorious mouth that knows things and does things.

How could she know? I should be preparing for the most important moment of my career, but instead my head is full of Alex and there's nothing I can do about it. Two days ago I was a surgeon at the top of my game and now, now I'm just a pitiful human who feels things.

Ugh, she's the worst.

* * *

" _Can I get your number?"_

 _My words bring a halt to her actions and for a few seconds Alex stands there, her back to me, with her shirt halfway over her head. I've said the wrong thing. The pause is too long, and it makes me feel stupid._

 _I'm on my bed, naked and stupid, and not ready for her to be gone forever. Not being able to see her face only makes it worse._

" _Alex?"_

" _You're kinda missing the point of a one night stand."_

 _She pulls her shirt on the rest of the way and bends to scoop up her jeans that were discarded in a sorry pile on my bedroom floor._

 _Now I'm naked and stupid and humiliated. But still, I'm not ready._

" _Then take my number."_

" _I don't want it."_

 _A zipper punctuates the blow to my gut._

 _But there's something wrong with me. A mental break of some kind. Because it's still not enough to make me stop. I don't want her to be gone._

 _My voice is thick when I speak, betraying the growing ache I'm feeling, and I'm glad because I want her to know._

" _Eight."_

* * *

"I'm glad I caught you."

My head jerks up and the chief of surgery is striding towards me. He caught me. But thank God he's not a mind reader because that statement would have a whole other meaning.

"I was just on my way to rounds."

I'm surprised by the steadiness of my voice. A stark contrast to the tumult raging inside me at the moment.

"Great, you can take them with you."

He makes himself comfortable on the edge of the table, his narrow hips in his badly pressed slacks nudging my laptop to the side. Respecting personal space, Doctor Caputo, you're doing it wrong.

"Sorry?"

"First years. They'll be here soon and since Gloria's on maternity, I want you to take them."

First years. Surgical interns. Over-eager, cut-hungry, snot-nosed grunts.

Over my dead body.

"Sir, with all due respect-"

"This is not a request, Chapman."

"My presentation is in under a week! If I don't get this grant, my study is screwed, and that wouldn't be good for me or this hospital. You know that."

"I do know that. I also know that you're more than capable of multi-tasking."

"Isn't there a fourth year resident who can-"

"There are several people who can… but I want you to do it."

"This is absurd. I don't have the time. I'm the best surgeon you have and you want to me to be a babysitter?"

"This is a teaching hospital, Doctor Chapman. And who better for them to learn from, than one of our top surgeons?"

I bite the inside of my lip until my mouth fills with an acrid, metallic taste.

"I'd be happy to take them, Chief, if Chapman's too busy."

I only just notice that the surgeon's lounge is no longer empty. John's at his locker but the smug smile he's wearing tells me his full attention is on the battle of wills between me and Caputo. But I'll deal with him later. Now I'm more interested in what the chief has to say about Wash's offer.

"Thanks, but no."

Motherfucker.

"Chief, I-"

"It's done, Chapman. Here's the list. I trust you know how this goes?"

"What, Chapman? She was never something so lowly as an intern, sir." John's abandoned his locker to join the circle of misery. "Didn't you know? She was born a neuro god."

"Butt out, Bennett," I spit the words through clenched teeth.

"I don't condone his being an asshole, but his point is why I'm making you do this. We all started at the same place, Doctor Chapman. And as great a surgeon as you are, I think it's important you be reminded of that. As much as you hate to admit it, there was a time when you knew nothing, and someone took you under their wing and showed you."

"But my schedule doesn't allow for-"

"Figure it out. You're smart enough."

My brain is stumbling over itself to formulate a response but he's gone before I can get another word out.

"Congrats," John laughs and taps me on the head with his stethoscope as he follows Caputo out.

I have no words for him either. Asshole.

"I'm here if you need help."

Washington. Always available and nice and helpful. I can't stand her. Nice and helpful doesn't make you great. That's why she's nothing more than a mid-level general surgeon. Didn't even have it in her to pick a specialty.

I give a stilted nod of acknowledgement even though I know I won't be taking her up on the offer. Something tells me I'll be under the watchful eye of Caputo, who's expecting me to handle this on my own.

"Carpal tunnel?"

"What?"

"Your wrist…"

I follow Wash's gaze and realize I'm rubbing my wrist again. Something jerks in my chest and my stomach clenches.

"It's nothing. I'm fine."

I touch the tip of my tongue to the rough spot inside my bottom lip, careful not to make eye contact as I slam my laptop shut and scrape up the list of doom.

My cheeks are hot, hurrying my exit along, and when I fix my stethoscope on my neck, my coat sleeve rides up and I don't want to look but I look. The graze is fading, barely there anymore. But it's still enough to make a hunk of bile burn my throat.

* * *

 _Her hands give up their hold but mine are still suspended overhead. She pulls at the strap until the leather creaks and I can't help but cry out._

" _That hurt?"_

 _I clamp my lips shut, not trusting my voice anymore, and nod._

" _Good."_

 _She yanks at the belt again and I wince, but nothing more. I refuse to give her more._

 _But when I open my eyes she's there, smoldering right through me, and the yield is instant._

 _I don't stand a chance._

" _Count to eight."_

 _Her voice sends prickles down my spine and the rest of my body reacts with a tremble I neither called for or can control. She smells of beer and sex and there's a glint in her eyes._

 _I lunge for her, all open mouth and darting tongue, but the angry crack on my searing wrists snaps me back. She likes it. I can tell because the glint catches fire._

" _Alex…" It's a whimper. I'm done for._

 _Her body shifts on top of mine and our skin comes together in an exquisite mix of heat and sweat. I rock my hips and instantly there's a firm hand there, making me stop._

" _Count… to… eight."_

 _Her words are smoky. Deliberate._

 _And I'm a mess._

" _Wah-"_

 _I don't get to finish and thank God. Her mouth crashes into mine and her tongue insists its dominance. I don't put up much of a fight._

 _Blood is pounding in my ears and lights are popping behind my lids but I won't breathe. Don't need to. The bed sways dangerously under me, and I'm sure consciousness will follow but just as I resign myself to passing out, there is air._

 _And pain._

 _Blood chokes down my throat with desperate gulps of breath and she finally releases my lip from between her teeth._

" _Go on."_

 _Her growl wracks my body with a deep craving and the ache between my legs starts to hurt._

" _Two…"_

 _She buries her face in my neck and I drop my head back, drowning in the wet kisses of fire she leaves there._

 _I think I get it now…_

" _Three."_

 _My neck is cold in her absence, but I don't mind because a flat hand grazes up my side and palms my breast._

 _I get it…_

" _Four."_

 _My breath hitches in my throat as she takes my stiff bud, her mouth hot and hungry, sucking and circling and coaxing a moan out of me from so deep it comes out strangled._

 _The ache is gone now. Now it's burning. And I can't…_

" _Eight."_

 _She looks up at me, a flicker of surprise clouding her features. But only for a second._

" _That's cheating."_

 _Screw you. "Eight."_

 _I hold her gaze, making her game mine, and the smirk she flashes confirms who the winner is._

 _I watch as she slides down and positions herself between my legs. I win. The trembling in my thighs as she forces them further apart gives me away though. She knows who really has the power here. But she's where I want her, so I win._

 _She steals my breath another time and every part of me tenses under her hungry tongue that weaves its way between my folds. My body is its own master, arching back, hips pressing down and into that delicious pressure._

 _I'm coming undone._

 _The tension quivering through my body is pulsing towards its sweet release._

" _Eightseven…"_

 _And I draw back a hiss when she thrusts two fingers inside me, the pleasurepain sending sparks swirling to my centre where they threaten to explode. The impeccable rhythm of her fingers and tongue is enough to make me scream. But I don't._

" _Seven seven seven eight…" I pant my instruction and she groans deliciously against me as she obeys._

* * *

"You look nice."

My hand instinctively rises to adjust my glasses. It's a tell I know I have and judging by the smirk on Nicky's face, it didn't go unnoticed.

"What's the matter? Am I interrupting something?"

It's been two days and I swear I can still taste her.

"What are you doing up before lunch?" I need to shift the focus from my thoughts of Piper Chapman.

"It's my day off, remember. I've got grand plans."

She falls into the chair opposite me with the grace of a caveman, unceremoniously dropping a bare foot on the table that makes my coffee wobble.

"So?..."

"So what?"

I'm already tired of her company. She's in a mood that I'm not in the mood for. Not today.

"You feel like sharing?"

She taps the side of her head with her forefinger and my insides twist.

"Not now, Nicky."

I push out my chair and this time I'm the caveman, sending my coffee spilling over the sides of the cup. I made it, poured it, didn't take so much as a sip.

"Jesus, what did she do to you?"

No answer comes. Because I don't have one. I shift my attention instead to shoes that need to go on and hair that needs to be tied.

"Whatever, Groucho. I'm going to jump through a shower and if you're gone before I'm out, and you even give a damn about this bottom of the ladder EMT and what she wants for you, break a leg."

The sound of the spray splattering in the bathroom draws out a sigh of relief. I didn't know just how much Nicky put me on edge until she wasn't there anymore. But I have to get a grip.

Screw Piper Chapman. She doesn't get to win.

I try to bite back a sardonic laugh that bubbles out of me.

Oh Alex, she's already done that, silly.

* * *

" _Then take my number."_

 _Jesus, she's not making this any easier._

" _I don't want it."_

 _Thank God I'm not looking at her when I say it. I don't want to have to see her face. And I don't want her to see on my face that I'm lying through my teeth._

" _Eight."_

 _She's something else, I'll give her that._

" _That's not how the game goes, Doc."_

" _Eight…"_

 _She repeats herself, but there's something different in her voice and fuck if it's making me want to turn around. To look at her. I know I shouldn't. I should walk out. Leave things as they should be and don't look back. So of course I turn around…_

 _And I'm done._

 _The look in her eyes is staggering, so dark they're barely blue anymore. Her tongue comes out to wet her lips and it's everything I can do to not jump her._

 _I'm dressed. I'm going home. This night was fun and now it's over._

 _She lifts a hand and starts massaging her breast. I can feel her eyes burning into me but I can't look at her. Because I can't tear my eyes from that hand… That hand that is now making a teasing trail down her body._

 _I try to swallow but there's nothing there and my throat scratches and smarts with the forced action._

 _The hand glides between her legs and pushes one knee aside, baring open the place that's already glistening with want._

 _If it was hard a minute ago, it's impossible now. Walking out is no longer an option. I drag my gaze back up to her face and she knows it. She knows she has me._

" _Eight."_

 _My mouth is on her clit before she finishes the count._

* * *

By the time I get to the changing room, I am contained. Ready. A surgeon.

"Welcome to Litchfield General."

I'm embarrassed for their sakes. Those eager faces looking back at me. Whatever Caputo thinks, I wasn't them.

"You might have noticed that you're a small group. Ours is one of the toughest programs to get into and if you're here, it means you're already better than every other surgical intern out there."

Beaming smiles and shoulder pats and camaraderie all round. Pathetic.

"But that doesn't mean shit here."

Smiles drop. That's better.

"As a first year, you're at the bottom of the food chain. You're nothing. Grunts. That being said, you can use your time here to be beaten down, or you can work your ass off to be worthy of your spot."

They're rapt as they watch me and I'm starting to feel less pissed off at this assignment. A certain power comes with being a mentor and I suppose if they're going to be learning from someone, like Caputo said, it might as well be the best.

"When you come back in a year, this group will be halved. The year after that? Halved again. I was one of seven interns my first year. I was the only one to make it to year four at Litchfield."

Doubt clouds the fresh-faced expressions in front of me. I have them hanging on my every word.

"But as tough as this program is, if you're good enough to make it through in one piece, you make it out on top. I am the youngest winner of the Jenji Kohan award… twice."

I smile at the impressed gasps and looks of admiration floating up to me. As they well should.

"So you've got a hard road ahead but if you keep your head down and do more than what's expected of you, you're going to be just fine."

I glimpse at the crumpled list in my hands and scan the rows with little interest.

"I'm not wasting time with names. I prefer to use my memory for things that actually matter. So according to this there should be eight of you…"

I do a quick count of the heads in front of me.

"And we're already off to a dismal start."

Heads turn and they quickly realize what I'm talking about. There are only seven of them present.

"You – you're One. Two, Three..," I'm pointing as I go down the line, assigning number names to smiling faces, happy to be acknowledged in any way. "Four, Five-"

"Brook, Brook Soso and I'm such a huge fan of your work, Doctor Chapman. I read your paper on the importance of early intervention in Alzheimer's cases and found it so inspirational and really, it was the single factor that influenced my decision in choosing Nuero as a-"

"Five. You're Five and you need to stop talking."

Crestfallen, she falls silent and I continue my baptism. "Six and Sev-"

A blur of black hair emerges in my peripheral line of sight with a bluster of cold air ushered in from outside.

"Sorry I'm late. Traffic was a bitch."

My finger is stupidly frozen in mid air pointing at nothing and my lungs don't work anymore and my skin is on fire and Alex is smiling at me.

"Eight?" my stupid voice chokes out stupidly.

* * *

This one's dedicated to all of you beautiful people and THREE MORE SEASONS!

 **Note: You've all succeeded in bending my rubber arm. I will be continuing HTSAL as a multi-chapter:) Still formulating several things but hope to update soon. Thank you so much for your comments and enthusiasm!**

 **Special thanks to Vausemaniac who took time to enlighten a poor ignorant soul in the ins and outs of this site. I'll get there. Eventually:)**


	3. Chapter 3

Author's Note:

Thank you all so much for the amazing reviews you left so far. I'm super stoked so many of you are enjoying this!

Apologies for the long wait but as you know I wasn't planning on going any further with this story and between real life and the fact that I ahem haven't really done this before, it's taken a while to develop something I feel would be worth reading. I only hope I don't disappoint.

Post Script:

For any fact checkers reading this – my medical knowledge is made up entirely of things my brain has latched on to after seeing it on tv, so don't expect any kind of accuracy. It's more for drama than anything else haha

* * *

I try to focus on the chart in front of me, and when I have to look up, I focus on the eager faces of the interns. But never hers. And Alex makes it easy by keeping to the back of the group.

Knowing she's there though… hiding?… makes morning rounds painful. My lungs feel like they can't get enough air into them and I feel like I'm drowning, all shaky hands and pounding heart.

I ask questions and nod through quickly rattled text book answers. The grunts are maniacally desperate to show off while they have the chance. It grates me. But not more than the fact that I'm terribly aware that since leaving the changing room earlier, I haven't heard Alex's voice. Not once.

And when I think about what that voice does to me… maybe it's not such a bad thing. But really

Is she deliberately trying to piss me off? Not participating because she knows it'll rub me the wrong way? Unless…

Unless she thinks she's doing me a favor by being as invisible as possible? Cutting me some slack so I can get through this without having to deal with her.

I prefer to let the former stoke the warmth in my chest. It helps to be mad at her right now.

We finish with the fourth and last patient on my rounds. Thank god because it means we have one more stop before I can get rid of them and give my head a chance to catch up with what just happened.

And come up with a plan to survive the rest of my life here.

"Last stop is the ER." I speak over my shoulder while the enthusiastic rats follow, hanging on to my every word.

The Pied Piper of Litchfield. What has my life become?

"We call it the trenches, because well, I'm sure you'll figure out why soon enough."

The doors slide open with a sigh and the chaos hits me in the face as always. I don't like it down here.

Cindy greets me with a nod and raised eyebrows once she notices my entourage.

Yes, this is beneath me and I was just as surprised as you are, Cindy, but here we are.

I turn round to face them and it brings them to a sudden halt, making the stragglers, including Alex, bump into the front runners in a clatter of note pads and stethoscopes.

"Litchfield Gen is a level two trauma unit. That means we get most of the cases in the area, which means this place is almost always hell."

I dare a quick glance in Alex's direction and her eyes are shining. Dancing. Her gaze flowing right past my head and into the mess happening behind me.

Go figure. This is her domain after all. It makes sense that it would be the place she comes alive.

"As first years," I raise my voice on this bit because I want their attention, but also because I want to remind Alex of something I know will kill her. "you're not allowed to touch a patient."

It works. She's looking right at me and her eyes aren't dancing anymore.

"You get to triage incoming cases and assist residents and attendings when they need it. But mostly, the next few months for you will include running labs, cleaning up after us, and making sure nobody dies while you do it."

I know it's wrong, but a part of me perks up at the sight of Alex. She's clearly not happy about having her hands tied. What did she expect? That she was going to John Wayne her way in here and just start cutting people open?

I shouldn't be enjoying this. But she lied to me. So I am.

"Okay, so moving forward, you will rotate service with an attending every week. You'll work in pairs. You're allowed into the OR at your attending's discretion and when you're there, it's to observe and learn. Some of you won't make it into the OR."

I find the eyes of Three as she shifts uncomfortably. A weakling, unsure of herself. I already know she won't last the program.

"But ORs two and three have a gallery, so you won't have an excuse not to learn."

"Who decides where we go?"

I've grown used to her silence, so when that voice drifts through the open space between us, it catches me off guard and I find my breath catching in my throat with all the words that are supposed to be my response.

"Do you give us our placements?"

She's looking at me and speaking to me like I'm a person or something who the hell does she think she is?

I nod yes and clear my throat so I can be more ready and less pathetic next time.

"Okay, so then I want whoever's on Trauma duty now."

Alex pushes her way to the front of the group. I need to check myself from grabbing at her with my eyes. Biting my bottom lip helps to keep them from wandering where they shouldn't but fuck me she looks good in scrubs.

This is my chance to regain the upper hand in the situation. Regain? That would imply I had it in the first place. With Alex, I'm not so sure that's even possible. But whatever, she's in my park now and here she will have to play by my rules.

"Ooh! I want in!" Five jumps to the front and nudges Alex aside. "I'm her partner, we can both do Trauma this week."

"Actually, I've already worked out a schedule."

I haven't worked out shit but I look at the list of names in my hand as if there's something scribbled there.

"One and four are with me." They got the most answers right during rounds, so I figure they'll irritate me the least.

"Two and six are with Dr. Bennet. He's the head of Trauma, so you'll find him down here somewhere."

"You and Alex," I look up at Five, "you're with Dr. Harper. In gynecology."

Alex's face drops visibly. Ha! I've got her now. You can't get more boring than that. With any luck, she'll be looking for a transfer before the end of the week.

"What about us?"

Shit. I forgot about Three. I fake scan the paper in my hands again but I have an idea where to put her. Sorry to Seven that has to go along with it but we can't all be winners in this world.

"You're with Dr. Washington."

"Where do we find her?"

"I don't know. Ask around."

And maybe I'm unnecessarily huffy about it, but I want to get away from them. From _her_. And I start to leave.

"Wait…"

I swear if Alex doesn't kill me, Five will. I turn to look at her and I can feel my jaw tighten to hold onto words I probably shouldn't say.

"Howcome she's Alex?"

My jaw betrays me and drops, leaving my mouth a stupid, round O.

"We all have numbers for names, but you just called her Alex. As human beings with basic human rights, we all deserve the respect of at least being-"

"We know each other," I blurt out, mostly to get her to stop her babbling.

And now I have fourteen eyes staring at me, twelve of which have questions, two wearing a smugness I wish I could punch right out of them.

"She's an EMT."

"Used to be," she corrects me.

I don't mean to, but fully commit to an eye roll anyway.

"That's a little unfair isn't it?" Three says and she has the agreeing nods of her peers to go with it.

"I'd say it's more than a little unfair, it's grossly unfair." And now Five. "She has practical knowledge that gives her the upper hand and if this program is as tough as its reputation suggests, then I think we should all be accepted on even footing."

Disgruntled murmurs at Five's back litter the air around us and I know I've made a mistake. Alex's face confirms it. Her eyes are blazing at me, shooting flaming daggers right into my soul.

It wasn't supposed to go this way…

"I think this matter is serious enough to take up with the Chief. Or whoever decides these things." Five is still going and I've changed my mind. She will kill me before Alex does.

"Listen, there _is_ no matter here," I jump in when Five stops to take a breath.

I need to fix this. I can't have Caputo getting wind of me wreaking havoc with interns on my first day.

"Ale- Eight knows as much about surgery as you do. So she has experience in stabilizing a patient. That's kindergarten stuff." I deliberately don't look at Alex when I say that bit. "And honestly, if you can't do that much, then you don't belong in this program."

Five makes no move to argue another point and her silence is seen as an acceptance of my explanation by the others. Destruction narrowly averted. My heart rate starts evening out. Now all I have to do is leave.

The gaggle of interns in front of me begin to go their separate ways and I weave through them, expertly keeping my back to-

"Can I talk you?"

Fuck. My heart rate starts galloping ahead again.

A deep breath and a prayer to somebody's god before I turn to face her and my face shows nothing of what's going on inside me.

"In here," I say and start towards an empty exam room.

"I'll wait," Five says.

"Don't bother. I'll meet you up there," Alex tells her in a way that's just barely a smidge above shooing her away.

This is it. I walk into the exam room and keep my back toward the door where I know she's standing. Nothing happens for a bit. I figure it's probably because Alex is watching Five leave, but I'm thankful because it gives me a few seconds more to get a fucking grip.

So she wants to talk. Probably to set things straight about the other night. To say it was a one time thing and that we shouldn't let it affect our work. I'll beat her to it. I'll say it goes without saying because it was a mistake. It shouldn't have happened. We should forget about it and mo-

"Okay, two things…"

I jump a little at the sound of the blinds clattering against the door as she pushes it shut. The speech I was rehearsing is out of my head when I turn to look at her.

"Firstly, gynecology? Really?"

"All interns have to get a turn to-"

"Bullshit! That was deliberate. You thought of the one specialty that would bore me to fucking death and you assigned me to it. Admit it."

Fuck you, Alex. I admit nothing. "What's the second thing?"

We're across the room from each other, an empty exam table between us acting like some kind of referee in a fight. I wonder if it'll sprout arms that'll keep us apart if either of us go lunging at the other.

"You know, I applied for this program because it's the best in the state. And I got in. Because I fucking worked my ass off for it, not because I used to be an EMT."

"Alex-" I start to defend myself but I let her interrupt. I have no defense.

"No. No. I have to work with those people and you just singled me out, ruining any chance I had at being part of a team. Now they're all going to work against me, to cut me out, because they view me as a threat. Whatever your feelings are about me… you didn't have to do that, Piper."

And I don't know if it's the angry hurt in her voice or the fact that she called me by my name and god I love how she says my name, but suddenly my chest is on fire and seriously? _She's_ the one who's upset right now?

"You lied to me."

There. I said it. My hands are balled up at my sides and my voice is straining with the effort it's taking not to shout.

"What?"

"You said if I- if…"

"Oh my god, is this about the other night?"

"You said I'll never have to see you again. You lied. You knew you were showing up here this morning. That we would have to work together. And you lied to me and lured me into your-"

"Lured you? If I remember correctly, you're the one who came after me."

"Only because-"

"And begged me to stay."

"There was no begging. I didn't beg." My voice is softer at the end because I know we both know how that went down.

"Look, I thought I made it pretty clear that what happened between us was just a one time thing."

Shit, she beat me to it. Get it together, Piper.

"But you have nothing to worry about, okay? Besides the fact that I keep my work and personal life separate, I have absolutely no interest in you."

Absolutely? Absolutely? She couldn't just say no interest? She had to refine it as an absolute?

"You're not even my type. So relax. Your secret's safe with me. I don't make a habit of telling people things they shouldn't be hearing in the first place."

And just like that, she's gone from amused to angry again.

"You lied!" I shout it out this time because fuck if I can keep my cool around her.

"I didn't lie! I said you'll never see me come through the ER doors again, which is true. I didn't lie, Piper."

"You knew what you were doing. You deliberately misled me and now I'm stuck in a situation I've worked my entire career to avoid."

"What's the situation? You're working with somebody you fucked once and it's over and in the past and will never happen again. There's no situation. It won't affect my working with you and after what just happened out there, I'm asking you to move on and not let it affect the way you work with me."

She doesn't even have the decency to let me gather a string of words together for a response, before turning and walking out of the exam room.

If this was a boxing match, there would've been a gong signal and a loud voice over a microphone calling the end to round one.

And although it feels like a KO, with Alex the clear winner – (I was wrong to do what I did, and I'm adult enough to give her that) – something tells me the Alex and Piper bout is far from over.

* * *

It's a long walk down a busy hallway, an elevator ride and a few turns down deathly silent corridors until I finally get to the gynecology unit. More than enough time to get the boiling in my blood to slow to a light simmer. With some effort and a quick fuck you to the girl who made me this mad, I'm ready to focus as I walk into the neonatal ward.

Dr. Harper, and the friend of the girl I just fuck you'd is scribbling in a chart at the nurse's desk.

"Well, well, well… Brook mentioned something about an EMT trying her luck as a surgeon, but I didn't want to believe it until I saw it with my own eyes."

She looks smug as hell as she gives me the once over.

"As opposed to seeing it with someone else's." I refuse to shrink in front of her.

She may be my superior, but I've only just realized that coming into this with my background medical knowledge is the biggest disadvantage. Instead of the other way around, like I first thought.

I was ready for butting heads with Piper but I wasn't ready to take shit for coming from emergency services. Now I've got a whole other fight on my hands.

"Ha, funny. You're the funny one."

But nothing in her face says she's amused. I hate her already.

"Anyway, this is where I keep my patient charts."

She slides the one she was busy with neatly into place as a demonstration. Perfectionist. I like that.

"For the next week you will study them. I do rounds promptly at 7:30am, and I don't appreciate tardiness. If you want to be tardy, go work in Plastics. Nobody gives a damn over there."

Crazy issues with the Plastics guys. Noted.

"Over here we work with teeny tiny little miracle balls of pure joy."

Her face is glowing. I'm pretty sure she falls somewhere on the psycho spectrum.

"There's no greater responsibility than having new life in the palm of your skilled hands. And that responsibility is always on time, always smiles and always brings an extra tall latte to the attending. That's me."

Yep, psycho

"Brook's in there, familiarizing herself with my miracles. Please, don't ever refer to the babies as cases. It's impersonal and cold and just plain mean. And I should tell you, as your competition, she's already asserted herself as quite knowledgeable. I suggest you get in there and catch up."

"Am I wasting my time asking if there's anything surgical?"

"It's your first day, Dr…." She tilts her head to read the name on my coat. "Dr. Vause."

Maybe it's the way she says my name, or the barely there waggle of her eyebrows, but I'm suddenly thinking about Piper. If they're friends that drink together, maybe they're friends that tell each other things. Like who they've recently had sex with. I actually have to stop myself from groaning out loud. She knows. Of course she knows. And if Piper's on a warpath to make my time here hell, they could be in on it together.

"My advice to you would be to not be so cut-hungry. It's a mistake that most first years make. You're here to learn, so take every opportunity you get to do it. And besides, you're working with miracles! It has its own kind of rush."

I don't even try to mirror her crazy smile as she walks off.

Great. I'm stuck in Loonyville with Queen Loony McLoon and boring ass babies who are all just perfectly fine. This blows. Not for the parents of the miracles, of course. Just for me.

"It's not so bad."

I turn to the nurse behind the desk. She's smiling up at me and seems friendly enough.

"I'm Daya. Harper and I've been together going on five years now. She comes off as loopy, but she's great at her job. And she's right too – about the miracles. What she didn't tell you was that she's usually the one playing god and giving them that second chance."

"Is that right?"

"Just… don't shut her down so easily. You'll be surprised."

I give her a nod of acknowledgement (what am I supposed to say to that anyway?) and turn my attention to the nursery, where Brook is standing over one of the cribs, furiously marking down something in her note book.

This time my groan is audible. Of all the people to pair me up with… Piper Chapman really did a number on me today.

And accusing me of lying! Acting indignant as shit when every word was the truth. So I messed her around a little bit. I was having fun. But I never lied to her.

Not until a few minutes ago. But telling her I wasn't interested seemed like the best way to just nip this thing in the bud.

I worked my ass off to get here and the last thing I need now is to lose focus. It's better this way.

My insides basically turn to awwwing mush after I step into the nursery. It smells like baby and… pure joy, to quote a crazily happy doctor.

Cribs are lined up in rows but only four of them are occupied. Slow day in Miracle Land, and an excruciating week ahead for me it seems.

"You finally showed up," Brook whispers without looking up from her notes.

"Barely."

I sink into a rocking chair but avert my eyes from the pink little toes peeping out at me from the crib to my right. I'm trying to be upset about my assignment. I don't want my ovaries to fall prey to any unwanted seduction.

"I thought you managed to get yourself switched to a more exciting specialty," Brook says, looking at me now. "Seeing that you and Dr. Chapman know each other. From when you were an EMT."

And the way she says it… I feel that boiling start to bubble in my blood again. This time I look at the fucking toes. Dead on. I need the calm. Biting the inside of my lip helps too. And then I'm back down again and I can look at her.

"Look, this is gonna be a long ride and I don't see myself dealing with this forever. Pi- Dr. Chapman already explained how I don't have any advantage over you, but clearly you're still pissed off. So please, get it out. Whatever hang-ups you might have about me and my experience… have it over and done with. But then you're gonna shut up about it. I don't ever want to hear you bring it up again."

The vein in her head is thick and blue and visibly pulsing. But for once, Talky Talkerton is silent. This might just be my first coup in this place and the idea gets me back to my old self.

I lean back in the chair to get it rocking lazily. With any luck, I could use this week to catch up on some sleep and this chair, with the smell and little miracle joybags would make it so damn easy.

The sweet silence is pierced, and funny enough, it's not Brook, but our beepers going off at the same time.

Instead of grabbing for it, I'm the idiot who checks that the babies are okay after the sudden loud noise. So by the time I see the 911 message, Brook's already rushed out ahead of me. Asshole.

But I don't have much time to hate on her, because the trenches are calling. I don't even care that's it's a gynecology case. My first day and despite Piper's efforts to keep me out of it, I'm on my way down to where the real magic happens. In your face, Dr. Chapman.


	4. Chapter 4

Author's Note: Sorry this was a bit long in coming. Life has been kicking my ass lately, but updates should happen more frequently now that I've kicked life's ass right back. Thank you as always for the wonderful comments. You guys are awesome :)

* * *

Rainy days are hell for anyone in emergency services. Car accidents, slip-and-falls, injuries brought on by augmented cases of stupidity or wrong-place-at-the-wrong-time syndrome…

We pick them up and try to keep their hearts going long enough so we can walk away from a hospital saying we handed over a live one. There's no stopping. No thought about who makes it and who doesn't. You take back your gurney, load it up and roll off to the next call.

"Where the hell is everybody?!"

I can't move without colliding with another person, but it's clear by the way he's shouting his question that nurses and first years are not who Bennett's looking for. The trenches is abuzz with activity. Carefully orchestrated chaos. Heaven.

"Look at you rockin' your white coat like some kinda surgeon."

I pick Nicky out easily – a short shit making her way toward me, hair pulled up in a messy bun, looking like it's fighting against the restraint with everything it has. It has a lot. She's giving me the once over with a smug look on her face that I'm trying to ignore. I know what she's thinking. I used to think it too. A part of me still does. I make a mental note to be the surgeon who pioneers amicable relations with EMTs, not a pain in the ass white coat.

"You bring this in?"

"Three car pile-up. Guess you're getting your hands dirty on your very first day."

"Yo, Nick!" A blue collar calls to her from across the room. He's on his way out.

"I gotta go."

"Yeah, okay."

"Break a leg, you filthy animal." She punctuates her good luck wish with a ringing blow to my arm that instantly numbs it. But she calls me the animal…

Drop off the live one and roll back out. I'm officially on the other end of that today, and it hits me that the thing I measured my success by – turning away from here while the patient's heart was still beating – that's only the beginning.

"Are you kidding me?!" Bennett's voice again.

I know I should be finding Harper, but with all the voices clamoring for attention in the commotion, my brain is still fine tuned to pick out the most urgent one. Right now that's the guy losing his shit with his interns.

"I asked you to tube him, not shove a pool noodle down his throat, for god's sake."

A tray clatters to the floor, sending needles and clamps and gauze flying. I join the fray by stepping over Two and Six who went scrambling for it at the same time… I should really get their names. I refuse to be a part of Piper's fucked up numbering system. Human beings with human rights, as Five – I mean Brook – would say.

The monitor's going crazy. Bennett's got his hands full with a chest tube. I shouldn't be here.

"Intubating…" But I can't just leave him like this.

"Thank god! Someone with a clue." There's a charged pause and I know Bennett's only just realized where his help is coming from. I can feel his eyes on me… "Is it EMT dress up day?"

"Yeah, every day for the rest of my life. Bag…"

"You look good."

"Keep it in your pants, Bennett. Bag!" Two jumps to action and fumbles around. "To your left!"

"Your other left!" Bennett's in my head. We shout it together. I can't help but return his smile.

God I love this place.

"Come over here and do this." It's Two who responds again. She's loose now so it's easier for her. Six is a goner.

"Pulse and pressure's holding. You better move him up now or crack him here."

"Rolling!" Bennett shouts and starts moving out with Two shuffling after. "You coming?"

I shake my head no. "I'm with Harper."

"Fine." They get onto the elevator. "But I'm calling you next rotation. And you," he says to Six who's about to step on with them. "Don't even bother. Stay down here and clean up that mess. Nice work, Vause. Great to have you on board."

The doors close on his dashing grin and I feel like I can fly. But then I see Six, and the look I'm getting from him brings me crashing down again. I guess this is the advantage they were talking about.

"The general rule is to show up when your attending pages you, Doctor."

Harper. Fuck.

She and Brook are wheeling a barely conscious, barely pregnant patient over to the elevators. She's in some kind of shock.

"I got lost. Sorry."

"Lost?" She's not buying it.

Brook is giving me the evil eye, but I'm beginning to think that's just her resting bitch face and I shouldn't take it personally.

"I only know one way into this place, remember." I get the button for them and we wait. "What do we have?"

There's a lot of blood where you don't want to see blood if you're carrying a baby… I know what Harper's going to say before she says it.

"Ruptured placenta. Taking her up for an emergency C-section."

"She can't be more than 27 weeks?"

Harper tries to hide it, but I can see my guess was right and made an impression. Barely into my first day and already the air in this place is affecting me. If I'm not careful, before long I'll be no different than any of the other numbers in my group. Salivating for praise and any opportunity to show off what I know. Gotta keep my shit together. Focus on the medicine. Don't get caught up in people bullshit.

"It's not the best situation but if we do nothing, we risk losing them both."

"She's young, she can have more babies."

"I'm going to pretend you didn't say that."

"A mother without her baby sucks, but a baby without a mom is worse. If you can avoid it, you should."

The elevator doors slide open and Brook goes first, guiding the gurney in after her.

"First you don't respond to a page, and then you have the audacity to question my methods to my face?" Harper jabs the button harder than is necessary, glowering at me.

"Would you rather I do it behind your back?" Shouldn't have said that. Bite your tongue, Alex, you're not outside anymore.

"A smart mouth isn't going to get you very far in here. I don't care how good you are."

"Doctor Washington, she's seizing!"

A panicked voice breaks through the general noise at my back and my brain's doing that thing again. Making me want to run toward the shouting and fix it. I glance over my shoulder – Washington's got her hands full and her interns are freaking out over another patient.

"Vause… what are you doing?"

But I can't answer Harper because I'm already making my way back into the trenches.

* * *

Herniated aneurysm. Like the gods have finally decided to start conspiring in my favor.

The theater is where I'm going to catch a break from this day. It's where I'm going to find two hours of uninterrupted, un-Vause-ified peace.

"I need to talk to you."

I close my eyes to the sound of Six's voice as if he'd go away if I don't look. He doesn't. I can hear him breathing. Waiting…

"I'm about to go into surgery."

"Yeah well, I would be doing the same if it weren't for her."

That _her_ that comes out of his mouth doesn't need any clarification. I know exactly who he's talking about. My voice does the same thing when I talk about Alex. Even in my head when I'm thinking about… _her_. Which I've been doing too much of and that's why I need to get in to that OR.

When I'm operating, the rest of the world fades away. Right now it's not the world, but just one person I want to fade out. Well, her and then Six, who apparently can't even let me scrub in peace.

Grabbing for a new bar, I start soaping up again, trying to keep focus on my ritual with Six hovering. He's thinking so hard I can feel him vibrating while he waits for me to acknowledge him in some way.

I lather my left arm right up to my elbow, and back down again until it's completely covered. Then the other arm, and then my hands, one finger at a time…

"What is it?" I finally give in as I start to rinse off.

"It's our first day and we're all doing the best we can. She's used to being down there, so of course she'll be faster. I knew what to do, but she- and now Doctor Bennett thinks I-"

"Wait, Bennett? Ale- Eight's on Harper's service."

"Exactly. She just elbowed her way in and stole my OR time."

"She's in surgery now?"

"No, I mean, if it wasn't for her _I'd_ be in surgery."

Ugh, the whining. Like dealing with a three-year-old. Maybe if he wasn't such a whiny grunt he'd get OR time.

"Look, I don't have time for this now. I have to get in there."

"But-"

Enough. My back's against the theater doors that have already slid open to allow me in. The sensors hold with my presence there.

"Grow up. If you want to win a surgery, work for it."

"But-"

"There's always going to be someone who knows more than you. Unless there isn't. But that's up to you. Paramedics aren't surgeons. She'll stop being a threat once you stop thinking of her as one."

"But the fact that she doesn't get freaked out in the ER means-"

"It's your first day! You have plenty of time to acclimatize to the chaos down there. So let it go. You lost this one, but you can make up for it. Focus on that."

He starts to say something but it's lost on me because I'm quick as I slip into the OR, making the door slide closed, forming an impenetrable sound barrier.

Two theater nurses are on me in a second. One pulling on my gloves and the other securing my mask.

So Alex got her chance in the trenches after all. And she did well. I don't know why it is, but I feel relieved. Did I think she'd mess up? Probably. Do I want her to succeed?

"We're ready for you, Doctor."

"Okay, let's do this."

My little safe bubble… no place for anything I don't want. A quick glance in the direction of the scrub room shows a still fuming Six storming out. Probably to go sulk in a corner somewhere. Fine by me. He won't exist for the next few hours anyway.

Absolutely not interested. My thoughts carry me back to the conversation from earlier. Absolutely. She needed to drive that point home to make sure there was no misunderstanding. She didn't seem absolutely not interested two nights ago…

"Pressure?" I mumble absently into my mask.

"Stable," a disembodied voice replies from somewhere behind me.

I've done this procedure hundreds of times. I can do it with whiny interns outside, with my hands tied behind my back, with her in my head... There's that _her_ again.

My little safe bubble has a weakness. It was supposed to save me from obsessing about her, but in true Alex style, she's barged her way in here too.

* * *

Fig's not even trying to hide the fact that she's staring. I saw her surprise when she found me in the ER, but thankfully the shitstorm down there distracted her enough to keep from getting into it. It wasn't enough to keep me from noticing her open attempts to belittle the simple paramedic playing doctor. We ended up taking the elevator back to the NICU together after Harper's page. The most awkward ride of my life. Now it's quieter than the trenches and no shitstorm, which makes ignoring her staring that much harder.

"What?" I eventually blurt out.

Her lips curl into a knowing smile. "Does she know you're here? Please say she hasn't seen you yet. I want to be there when she does. Oh my god I can just imagine the look on her face…"

"You're gonna have to keep imagining, because it already happened."

"Dammit, I always miss out on the fun."

Harper and Brook come in with an incubator carrying a shitload of pipes with the smallest baby I've ever seen under them all. His little heart is beating away. On the outside of his chest.

"Holy fuck. Sorry."

"No need to apologize, Doctor Vause, I think the situation calls for exactly that sentiment." Fig says. Her voice is filled with awe at the sight of the baby, but the way she calls me doctor... "What did you say his term was?" she asks Harper.

"About 27 weeks."

My attending looks like it's her own kid in this incubator, and with what I've learned about her in the past few hours, I feel sure she looks like that with every kid she deals with.

"Hmmm… slight effusion." Fig's stethoscope is practically the same size as the baby's head. "Lungs could've done with a few more weeks in there. Makes me hesitant to operate."

"Steroids." The word's out of my mouth before I even know I'm thinking it.

"Nope, hot yoga four times a week but thanks for noticing, Doctor Vause. My sculpted calves are legend around these parts."

"I don't think she was-"

"I know what she was saying, I'm not the idiot in the room," Fig interjects, rolling her eyes at Brook.

Shutting down Brook would ordinarily make my day, but I'm pretty sure there was an insult aimed at me in there somewhere so it doesn't. The woman has skill, I'll give her that.

"Why would we be giving steroids to a preemie?"

Fig quickly raises her hand to stop the answer about to tumble out of Brook. "I would like the other first year to defend her proposal."

This is a teaching hospital, so they're supposed to question interns. I get that. But Fig's disparaging tone rubs me up the wrong way. Between her smirk and Harper's staring, the temperamental boiling in my blood starts bubbling again. I set my jaw against it. I'm here to learn, not to get them to like me. Fuck that.

"Steroids are known to boost development of the lungs in pre-term babies. It'll also treat the pericardial effusion you mentioned. In a newborn, a single dose should be enough for him to handle corrective surgery so you can replace the heart inside the chest cavity. The slight effusion could be drained, but I'd test for a cause in case it's indicative of something like kidney failure, and then propose treatment accordingly."

A nod of acknowledgement is all I get before Fig's attention is back on the baby. "Fine, if he makes it through the next 48 hours, I'll operate. You two can decide among yourselves who'll be in there with me." She's talking to me and Brook. "Oh and Harper, I'm gonna want Plastics to close."

The rock star leaves and we take a few more seconds to watch the tiniest heart beat away on the outside of the tiniest body.

"This is my case. I should scrub in." Brook breaks the silence and I wanna punch her in the face, mostly because she's right.

I wasn't there, so I have no right to request a space in the OR. Fuck my stupid instinct for wanting to help people. Now I'm missing out on the coolest surgery ever.

"She's right. We grant interns the opportunity to follow their cases. You didn't even respond to your page, so technically it's not your case."

"Whatever. I don't care."

"Yeah, you've made that much clear."

"Doctor Vause?"

Harper points me out to the nurse who's just showed up at the door.

"I was in theater with Doctor Bennett. He wanted me to tell you Mr Benson is going to be fine and thanks for your help." She fixes her hair, fiddles with the ID card hanging over her left breast. But I'm too busy inwardly cringing to respond to it.

She had to do that now? In front of the one person who looks about ready to cut a bitch?

"What help?" Brook asks as if on cue.

"It's nothing."

"You helped save a man's life, Doctor. That's not nothing."

Really, nurse, you're not making this any easier. Brook's glaring at me like she could rip my throat out.

"I page you and you report to another doctor?"

"He needed the help and you obviously had everything under control."

"You only knew that after the fact."

"And you're not allowed to touch the patients. Doctor Chapman said as first years, our responsibility is to-"

"I'm familiar with what she said. I was there."

Harper's shaking her head like she doesn't know what to do with me. I hate to admit it, but that's a reaction I'm all too familiar with.

"I'll take this up with you later. Right now I need coffee. He shouldn't be alone, so take turns monitoring."

"Since you're all about saving the day," Brook starts once Harper's gone, "you can take the first – extended – shift, while I go for lunch. An extended one."

"What's your problem?"

"My problem? Maybe it's the fact that you do everything wrong and yet, everything you do is right. How does that work?" She storms off in a huff, apparently not interested in my answer.

* * *

"She's cocky, arrogant, and really good at what she does, which is so fucking annoying because it makes it harder to set her straight about her attitude. You're going to have to talk to her."

"Pol, it's bad enough the coffee guy didn't show up today and I'm stuck drinking swill from the caf, can we please not spend my rare, precious, very rare free time talking about Alex?"

"I'm not bringing this to you because she's the woman you had a one night stand with."

"God, Pol!" I swivel my head around to check if anyone in the immediate vicinity might have heard her. Thank god the hospital started enforcing its 80-hr week rule, because that means the cafeteria is markedly empty despite lunch hour.

"She's your intern, Piper. If it was any one of the others, I would've expected you to intervene just the same."

"I don't think she did anything wrong."

"Her attitude needs adjusting and it's your job to do it."

No it's not my job, I want to scream at her. I am a neurosurgeon. Not a babysitter. Fucking Gloria decided to have a fucking baby and go on fucking maternity leave and now I'm intervening with Alex which means being alone with her again when I'm better off dealing with her in a group or not at all because god knows what'll happen if

"You're doing it again – spacing out while I'm talking to you."

"You're upset because she didn't show up when you paged her, but the fact is she did show up. She just assessed the situation and decided Bennett needed her help more urgently. She's trained in emergency services, Pol, I trust her instinct." That's the most honest thing I've said all day.

"Wow, that was fast."

"What are you talking about?"

"No, nothing."

"Oh for god's sake spit it out."

"We're barely through day one of The Chronicles of Alex Vause, and already you're taking her side over mine."

"There are no sides, only medicine. It's not insubordination when it's life or death. You were fine with your patient and Bennett wasn't. I'm not going to give her a hard time about doing something that I would've done in the same situation."

"Oh please, life or death?" She's mad and it's making me mad and I don't want to talk about Alex anymore.

I can handle being hard on someone for messing up, but this isn't that. Alex did nothing wrong. So she wasn't very polite about it, but I'm sure the patients who are not dead because of her couldn't care less.

"She looked for the case most likely to end up in the OR and she went for it." Polly's still going… "Don't shake your head, it's true. Do you know what she asked me? First thing this morning, she got up there and asked if there was anything surgical. Your judgement might be clouded, but I can still spot a cut-hungry intern a mile away."

"That's not her."

"Now you're the Alex expert."

"No, Pol, I just know her."

"Yeah, you know her alright."

"That's not what I mean. You know her too. The two of you had a baby in the back of a Chevy. Remember that?"

"That was her?"

"We've all shared patients with Alex over the past few years and yes, her methods are not always appropriate and she's straightforward to the point of being-"

"An asshole."

"Sure, but she's not your typical grunt. Look, didn't you say the theater nurse came to find you guys in the NICU?"

"Yeah, so?"

"So, if Alex was looking to get into the OR, why didn't she just follow Bennett? Or Wash for that matter? She didn't even tell you about it when you asked her. She took heat for ignoring your page when she could've easily explained what the real reason was."

Polly takes a slow sip of her coffee, mulling over my words. I can see her mood simmering down.

"So now what?"

"Now nothing. You're a grown up and if you don't like something, tell her. I know the interns are my babies for now, but you can't come to me every time she hurts your feelings. It'll probably happen on a daily basis, and I have better things to do with my time."

"Gee thanks, I feel so much better now."

"You're welcome."

I offer her a smile and clink our paper cups together, grateful that the tension has faded.

"So… you guys talked?"

Aaand it's back. I knew I wasn't going to escape this little chat without debriefing my encounter with Alex this morning. I nod as I struggle with the last gulp of my coffee, which more than I bargained for so I have to work it down in stages.

More than I bargained for. Piper Chapman's theme of the week.

"And…?"

"And nothing. It was a one-time thing and we've agreed to just put it behind us and focus on our work."

"Really." It wasn't a question. It was an I'll-believe-it-when-I-see-it.

"She's not interested in me and I am so, so definitely in no way at all interested in her. At all."

"Wow, that's a lot of no interest."

"Yes, that's what it is. And that's why this is fine. Totally fine." Not looking at her loses out eventually and I meet the amused raised eyebrows from a person who doesn't believe a word I'm saying. "I don't even like her."

"No?"

"You said it yourself – she's an ass. She's – she's arrogant and stubborn and just everything I'm not attracted to. Not my type. No thanks. Moving on. Not interested."

"Uh huh…"

"Stop it!"

"What? I'm agreeing with you. She's so not your type."

"Thank you."

"You and Alex? Please."

"I know right? It's like – it's not even oil and water, it's worse than that – we're like gasoline and fire. Completely different on an atomic level. Crazy. Insane. No, no way."

"Gasoline's bad for fire."

"Exactly. Bad, terrible idea."

"When gasoline and fire get together there's usually an explosion."

"Cataclysmic proportions."

"A lot of heat… rampant burning… some would say the union could even be called passionate."

"What are you- that's… I mean, sure, when we-"

"When you what?" She's practically chomping at the bit.

"Forget it. That was a horrible example."

Polly's having fun at my expense, but I hate to admit that she's not far off the mark. I'll never admit it to her. What I felt that night with Alex… it was exactly how she described it. And who in their right mind would call something like that the worst idea ever?

* * *

"He's not gonna make it."

Beating around the bush was never my thing, but when those words come out of Brook's mouth, a clamp tightens its grip on my chest and I'm ashamed of that characteristic for the first time in my life.

"He's doing great."

She takes up her spot beside the incubator, notebook in hand, checking the monitors. "If by great you mean barely hanging on, then yeah, he's peachy."

"He's a fighter. Tachy a few times while you were gone and look, his vitals are holding."

"His vitals are bleak at best."

"Yeah, but they're holding. Listen, if you can't check your negativity at the door then maybe you should just leave and let me sit with him."

"What, so you can muscle in on my OR time? Let Doctor Figueroa give you the case because you put all the time in with him?"

I can only shake my head in response to the ignorance of her statement. I'm not particularly concerned that I care about the kid more than getting in on his surgery. The fact that she can't understand that only means I'm right in my assumption of her. Sometimes getting a surgery isn't the most important thing. If you're human anyway. And after being stuck in this chair for hours, my human body is aching to take a few steps, breathe some air that's not saturated with babies. My back cracks as I straighten and when I roll my neck, it does the same.

"It's a waste of time and resources to operate on a patient you know will die anyway. That's what the 48-hr window is for."

"Fig wants him stronger. Give the drugs time to work, give him time to get a grip on being out here so he can handle the surgery."

"She wants to see whether he's a waste of time and resources or not."

I'm blinking the red out of my eyes as I push out of the NICU. One more second with her and I would've been full on raging. The last thing I want is to have all my hard work go to shit because I killed another intern on my first day.

The vein in my head is down to a light pulsing when I step off the elevator and the muscles clenching tightly in my chest relax instantly when I see her. Not that she has anything to do with it, but I'm thankful I can breathe again.

"Bad day?"

Piper looks up at me like she's confused there's anyone in the hospital at all, and then after a second, turns back to the surgical board she was mumbling at when I came over.

"I don't want to talk to you right now."

"That bad, huh?"

"You tell me."

"What? I haven't killed anyone, I swear. In fact, I've done the opposite of that."

"I heard."

"You keeping tabs on me, Doc?"

But she doesn't find it funny. And now her mood is rubbing off on me. So much for trying to keep things light and civil. Why does she always have to be so complicated to deal with?

"It's my job to keep tabs, but with you, I don't have to. The people you're pissing off are coming to find me."

"What people?"

"I have what's most likely the biggest moment of my career coming up on Friday, and instead of preparing for it the way I should be, I'm stuck with you."

"I didn't ask you to be."

"No, that was the chief's bright idea. Because he wanted to I don't know, cut me down to size, while at the same time, depending on me to keep the reputation of this hospital where it matters." She's pissed off but keeping her voice low, letting her gaze sweep the area around us every few seconds.

"Oh, now I get it. I'm in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"No, Alex, this isn't me venting about some shit that's not going my way. The minimum leave period for new moms is three months. That means this arrangement is far from being over. I don't want to spend that time cleaning up messes you've made. I've covered for you twice today already, and one of those instances was with your attending."

"Shit."

"Is that all? Shit and a shrug and that's it?"

"Bennett's happy with me…" I offer, in an attempt to turn the course of the conversation.

"I heard about that too. After I told you, as a first year-"

"Don't give me that. You expect me to do nothing while someone dies right in front of me when I know I can help stop it?"

"Another doctor would've helped out. You're on Harper's service."

"There wasn't time to wait for another doctor."

"Shhh!" She looks around and I do the same.

Flirty Theater Nurse is at the desk with her colleagues and they're all watching us intently. Maybe this isn't the best place to get into it with Piper. I take a breath.

"There's a baby upstairs with his heart outside of his chest."

"I heard about that too." She accepts my peace offering and turns her attention back to the board in front of us.

"Wanna go see? I don't know he does it, but looking at him makes the day suck less."

"What? No, I'm busy."

"Busy… standing or staring? Or talking to yourself?"

"D, all of the above."

"I didn't realize you were this averse to good cheer."

"What are you even doing here? Shouldn't you be monitoring your case?"

"I'm on a break. Know any good places a girl can go for some quality caffeine?"

"Yes, but none of them are here, I'm afraid."

"In keeping with the theme of having the worst first day, of course."

This time she looks over at me and my chest tightens again, but it's not out of anger. I was more comfortable when she was looking away. I don't like feeling feelings when other people are around to see it.

"Everything aside, you're not having a bad day, Vause."

"No?"

"I spoke to Harper and she said you're really good. Bennett's ready to make you his wife, and you helped save two lives. That's a good day in my books," she says with a smile.

It's nice when things are normal between us.

"So what happens Friday?"

She mutters "Work stuff," and turns her attention back to the board. That easy smile is gone.

"Which involves…?"

And then she's looking at me again, like she's trying to decide whether I'm worthy of her time. I find myself wanting to be. Coffee and stretching of legs out the window – standing here talking to Piper is as good a break as any.

"I have to give a presentation to secure funding for my clinical trial." She decides I'm worthy.

"That's a big deal."

"The biggest. And I'm standing here rehearsing my speech to a surgical board because this is the only time I have thanks to work and stupid interns, no offense…"

"None taken."

"…and even though Caputo needs this study as much as I do, he's doing nothing to help me bag it."

"What's the study?"

"What?"

"Your clinical trial, what is it?"

For a second she looks like she's going to tell me, but instead she says, "It's… neuro stuff."

"Now offense has been taken," I say, knowing it'll nudge more info out of her.

"It's about brain tumors."

"Right, well, now that I've gotten speaking to someone who makes me feel like a brainless ass out of the way, I'm gonna go find that coffee."

"No, Alex, wait. Sorry. I didn't mean-"

Oh man, I've got Piper Chapman read like a book.

"Look, I see you have two more surgeries today, but if you want to go over your speech with an actual human who can offer constructive input, come find me in the NICU later. I got through med school and I'm pretty sure if I concentrate extra hard with my lady brain, I'll manage to keep up."

"Alex-"

"It's a platonic offer, I swear."

She doesn't seem convinced. Like I would stand in the middle of our workplace and suggest anything more, with everyone to see me do it. Well, okay, maybe that's something I would do. But I'm not doing it now. I don't think…

"I appreciate the offer, but it's probably not a good idea for us to-"

"Help each other out? Be civil and friendly? Pipes, we're-"

"You can't call me that," she whispers tersely, glancing around.

"Fine, but you said yourself, we're stuck with each other for a while. Do we have to go through every day of that time like this?"

Despite the slip of my tongue getting her back up and her blatant discomfort at having me talk to her, I notice the change – the moment she lets her guard down.

"Okay," she gives in and turns to face the board again, but I don't miss the reason she's looked away so quickly. Her smile's just a little too wide to conceal.

* * *

It's after midnight and I'm sure I'll find Alex asleep, but when I softly push the door to the NICU, she proves me wrong. If she hears me come in, she shows no sign of it, and even when I come up beside her, Alex keeps her attention on the baby in the incubator. Her one hand is inside, her forefinger resting in the tiniest fist. The sight of her sitting like that is astounding. For all her smart-mouth, hard-ass sass, it's easy to think Alex doesn't have a tender bone in her body. My own body starts reacting to a memory of her being gentle with me, and it takes everything I have in that moment to make it stop.

"His heart's outside his body," she says, her voice barely above a whisper, which makes the signature husk even more evocative than usual.

My efforts to keep control of my runaway thoughts and my body's reaction to them get turned up a notch.

"He keeps getting stronger even though he's not supposed to be here at all."

"Yeah, but he doesn't know that, see. Sometimes knowing an outcome stops you from doing something that could be amazing. Sometimes it's better not knowing. It gives you the chance to be in the moment."

She looks up at me then, smiling a half smile that says so much I can feel my knees getting weak under the weight of it. I stay standing though.

"Are we still talking about the baby?"

She's doing it again. That thing where she's not really doing anything but everything she does gets me all riled up.

"What else would we be talking about?"

"I don't know… the other night, maybe?"

I flinch, but the only sign is the grip on my key cards that becomes vice-like.

"Don't be absurd," I brush her comment aside and take a few steps back.

Too close to that unwavering gaze and I might burst into flame. Fire with gasoline close by. Precautions must be taken.

"If you had known I'd be here today, would you still have-"

"I wasn't talking about that. I was talking about life. In general. And this little guy, who's totally oblivious to the fact that every time he takes a breath he's breaking the rules." It's a last ditch attempt to get her to look away from me and pay attention to the baby who's still holding onto her, but it doesn't work. She's wearing the most infuriating smirk. "I was talking about the stuff of wonder, not whether or not I regret having sex with you, you pompous ass."

This gets her to look away, chuckling softly as she takes back ownership of her finger, soothing his hand one last time with tender strokes before moving away from him. Toward me.

Shit. Exercise caution with approaching heat. Flames may cause burning.

"Do you? Regret it, I mean."

And there's no reason to have your voice this low in here but she's doing it anyway, and I wish I could make her stop because at that specific level-

"Keep this up and my answer'll get closer to yes."

Her face opens with a grin and I know I've said the wrong thing. "So it's currently no?" She looks mighty smug and proud of herself for catching me out.

"That's not what I said." The control I mastered coming in here is starting to slip.

"Not in so many words..."

"Can we please not talk about this?"

"I would think that you could've mentioned this little factoid before all the drama, with you going off about-"

"What does it even matter?" I'm whisper-screaming. She has me whisper-screaming in the middle of the NICU. In case of emergency, break the fucking glass. "It happened, it's over, we're moving on." I slow my breathing to get some of that control back, but I can't look at her while I do, because I know she'll be wearing that smile and I just can't… "I don't… regret it, I mean." I look now, because I want to see her face. Worth it. Doctor Vause wasn't expecting that from me. "It was fun. I had fun."

"Yeah, yes it was. A lot of fun," she ends, happy with my admission and I'm fighting not to return her stupid smile but I'm failing horribly. "Best you ever had?" That eyebrow arches. Ugh, she's the worst.

"Oh come on, can we- do you want to hear the speech or not?"

"Okay, okay, fun's over. I'm listening."

She takes up her seat in the rocking chair again and I stand in front of her, delivering my speech, taking care to go through it slowly. Whether she needs me to or not is entirely lost on me though. Her face gives nothing away. Nothing. She just sits there, quiet and unmoving, and after a while it gets too much.

"Do you- is there anything you want to ask? Need me to clarify?"

Alex shakes her head no. Nothing else. I just told her that I'm geared to cure an incurable brain cancer and it didn't even get so much as a quirk of an eyebrow. The brows that seem to work perfectly fine at other, less appropriate, times.

I start to think maybe I was right about her not getting it. Mostly I start to think if I'm feeling this vulnerable now, how much worse it's going to be on Friday.

"Is that it?"

"No, no it's not. I just thought, you're so quiet, I thought maybe you don't fully-"

"You're expanding on immunotherapy research in cancer and taking it further to affect the actual DNA of brain tumors, specifically glioblastoma, which is currently classified as the one incurable type of brain cancer. Your plan is to force the tumor to mutate to a stage where it starts killing itself. If successful, your method will save the patient from having to undergo treatments that break down the body, and entirely eradicate the need for surgery. That about it?"

"Y- yes."

"Pretty revolutionary. You're looking at groundbreaking work in genetic modification, besides what you'll do for brain cancer."

"I know, that's why-"

"I wouldn't give you my money though."

"Excuse me?"

She doesn't stand up, only leans forward in her seat, resting her elbows on her knees.

"You sound a little… stiff. Too clinical."

"It's a clinical trial. Science. That's what I'm giving them."

"Which is great, but you're speaking to people, not machines."

"Wait, you mean the committee is not comprised entirely of androids? What was I thinking…"

"Okay, you clearly can't take a little criticism," she says and gets up to check the monitors.

Heart outside his body. He's alive, and if Fig has anything to say about it, he'll stay that way. This is how far medicine has come, and I'm about to take it further. My name will be mentioned with the likes of Chris Barnard, and a first year intern is telling me I'm doing it wrong.

"I'd take the criticism if it was coming from someone who had a clue, instead of an EMT."

"Wow, okay. Really?"

"I'm not asking these people for a hundred bucks, Alex. Or a hundred thousand, for that matter. I need to give them hard facts about-"

"I know how this works, Pipes. Even with my lowly EMT brain. All I'm saying is, I know this is something you're passionate about, but I'm just not seeing any of that when you talk. You have it in you, it's just not-"

"Don't do that."

"Don't do what?"

"Call me that. And talk about me like you know me. You don't."

"Okay… what just happened?"

And she really looks stumped as to what could've brought about the change in my mood. As if she'd be fine with someone attacking her life's work to her face.

"You don't know what I have in me."

"Jesus, okay. Let's just drop it."

"You're right. This was a bad idea. I don't know what I was thinking." I swipe my key cards discarded earlier in an empty crib, as I try to get ahead with a hasty exit.

"What? Piper, wait…"

I can feel her looking at me but don't return the gesture.

"Okay, whatever. Maybe next time, make sure you can deal with it before you accept help from someone."

"Screw you." I toss the words over my shoulder and wrench the door open.

"Have a nice night…"

That smart-ass tone in her voice makes me wheel back around "You don't get to tell me what to do."

I don't even care that the desk nurse is watching, my strides are long and determined and carry me to the waiting elevator. What was I thinking? That me and Alex would have some semblance of an amicable working relationship? On what green earth was that ever a possibility? We didn't get along before, and just because there's been great sex and attraction and moments when she vaguely resembles a human being I don't explicitly hate, it doesn't mean we'll get along now. Fire and gasoline. Not gonna happen.


	5. Chapter 5

I had no idea just how much I valued my sleep until a few nights ago, when it became so damn hard to get any. Under normal circumstances, being jolted awake by dreams that are so vividly hot her taste stays with me for hours after would be considered a night well spent. But these aren't normal circumstances, and I have no business indulging in Alex—real or not real.

Until today I've managed to soldier through it. Show up for work and do my job. But the last dream—the one that forced me out of bed and into a shower at 4am… I'm two blocks into my walk to work and still trying to shake it.

 _Thanks to the bad lighting in the surgeon's lounge, I can barely make out the faces staring at me. But I know they're looking. I can feel it._

 _Something else I feel is the way my sweaty hands are sticking to my key cards, shaking so much that I lose my place when I look down. Lose my place and stutter. Shit, this isn't how you get a grant, Doctor Chapman. I screw up my eyes, but instead of focusing on my words, it finds my hand. The one holding the cards. Only, it's not my hand. It's this titanium Terminator robotic hand. Because I'm a machine and my speech has no emotion._

 _Arms wrap around me from behind. I recognize the touch instantly, and my pounding heart starts pounding for a whole other reason. I like this reason better. My cold sweat from before is now wrapped in a rising heat from my middle. It turns my stomach, making it tighten in anticipation._

" _Alex…" The lights go even lower when I say her name._

" _I'm here, babe. Relax."_

 _Her hand slides down the front of my pants and into my panties. I break out in a flush because of the condition she finds me in down there._

" _We can't," I try hopelessly, because actually I can. I want to. "The benefactors are watching."_

" _Screw 'em. I need you. Now." And everything in that growl of a voice confirms her need. Cuts to my bones._

 _Defenses don't exist. Not with Alex. There's no argument from me because I need her too. So I let her take me. Right there on the table. Right there in front of the board who is yet to decide the fate of my study._

 _Her hands are magic. Every touch lights a fire in my blood that burns as it rushes through me, turning me into a hot mess. The way she takes me, it's rough. Almost desperate the way her mouth grabs at me. There's a primal hunger that drives her and it pushes me to the edge knowing that I'm the only thing that can satisfy it. The only one…_

I've walked more than half a block farther on auto pilot, my dream of a few hours ago warding off the biting chill. My feet finally stop when the sight of Litchfield Gen, a gloomy hulk in the rain-splattered dimness, looms into view across the street.

For most people, a hospital is a place filled with horror, sadness, pain. Not me. This has been my sanctuary for more than a decade. My home away from home. It's where I feel most myself. Most in control. Looking at it now, with the taste of a certain intern lingering in the back of my throat, I don't feel that control anymore.

 _The smell of old coffee and cigarettes from our audience mixes with the sex and sweat and the fucking maddening scent that is uniquely Alex. When I kiss her neck, I swear she tastes of lazy strolls in the park at dusk. She tastes of more. Something I feel is mutual in the way she devours me. Oh god when she puts her mouth on me…_

 _I'm done for. There will be no surviving this. Tell my family I love them and water the peonies in my window. I'm out._

 _When it's over, Goldenbaum compliments my 'TV titties' and writes me a check for twenty-five bucks. It doesn't even register with me. My attention is on the dark-haired goddess lying naked on the table, begging me to fuck her hard._

"Boo's delivery doesn't come by for another hour."

I'm sure my feet actually leave the ground the way Polly's appearance makes me jump.

"What?" I school my features to hide the images I've been playing around with.

"If you're watching for a big vehicle to throw yourself in front of. I'm just saying… Boo's is your first and best option today."

If she'd noticed anything, she would've led with that, which means I'm most likely in the clear. Thank god. I'm not particularly in a sharing mood.

"You're early," I say, and watch the cloud of mist that comes out of my mouth. And then I watch the building in front of us. Anything not to look at her. But I can feel her next to me, doing the same. She doesn't want to look at me either.

"Can't sleep," she replies simply.

"Same. What's your reason?"

"Forty-eight hours are up. Fig makes the call before rounds today."

"Oh," I offer lamely. Not much else can be said without seeming overly trite.

So we stand there, me and my best friend, afraid to step off the sidewalk and go to work. A wordless rendition of 'Why didn't the surgeon want to cross the road?' Each of us with our own distinct answers to the question.

The bay in front of the ER is eerie in its emptiness. Just one ambulance, no lights or sirens. The doors that are usually sighing open and closed at regular intervals are stagnant. Being in medicine, I'm programmed to not like the quietness of it.

I shake my shoulders to stop the unsettling crawl itching at my skin. There's a bad feeling there that I don't want to acknowledge just yet. The sky is gray-black and heavy with the storm that's brewing. Day three now, and still it's only threatening to break. Once it does though, that's when things are going to get real.

Kinda like me and Alex. Always this tension bubbling under… threatening… What would happen once the dam walls break? What would it mean for things to get real with us?

"You're not going to ask about my reason?" I say to Polly, who's still zoned out on the hospital across the street.

"Don't need to," she mutters. "You've become painfully predictable of late. Boring, almost."

Her words sting even worse than the cold gnawing at my ungloved hands. "You said you liked living vicariously through my super hot fake sex life."

I know I didn't want to talk about it a second ago, but then it was my decision. I don't like that it's not mine anymore. She's always been so ready to listen to me and my Alex stuff, this change of attitude rubs me up the wrong way.

"Not today," she says, still keeping her syllable use to an absolute minimum. And then, as if sensing an unwanted conversation on the horizon, she follows it up with: "Can we go? I'm freezing my tits off out here." Polly doesn't wait for me to respond before she starts across the street.

"You two still not talking?" she asks when I finally catch up to her.

"Just work stuff."

"So then you wouldn't know your dream lover's living here now."

She says it in passing, but I have to stop walking. "What?"

Polly steps up onto the sidewalk and turns to me, who's still standing in the street like an idiot. "I wouldn't have said anything, but if she gets caught, it's an HR shitcake I have no appetite for."

"How do you know?" I'm still lagging behind, trying to figure out how I could've missed the fact that Alex has been staying at the hospital.

"My eyes and ears. Apparently one of the nurses has the hots for her, so she's been helping Alex duck the hand-over sweeps when shifts end."

And just like that, my brain switches gears. Switches and kind of gets stuck there. "Which nurse?" I mount the sidewalk so that Polly's not looking down at me anymore. I need a face-to-face for this conversation.

But she just rolls her eyes. "Piper, focus. You're her mentor, or supervisor, or whatever. You need to deal with it before it's all of our asses being chewed out by the Chief."

"Do you know if the feeling's mutual? With this nurse?" Like I said, stuck there.

"Piper-"

"Fine. Okay, I'll talk to Alex." If Polly won't give me answers, I'm not above a little fishing expedition with the person in question.

"Good, and hey, it's work stuff, so it falls within your current communication zone."

We start the final stretch to the ER doors, trying to walk and huddle together at the same time, when I get shoulder checked so hard it sends Polly stumbling too.

"Shit, sorry."

I'm about to go off about looking where you walk, and plain and simple manners, but then I recognize the ruffian I'm about to check as Alex's ex-colleague from her EMT days. A short little shit with a loud mouth and even louder hair. I still haven't figured out how she gets the whole bush up and out of the way when she's on duty.

"G'morning." A wry smile touches her lips, and I can tell she recognizes me too.

"Morning," I mumble my response and make quick work of moving along. Don't want to stand around too long since I have no clue as to how she recognizes me—from here, or… other.

"Hey Doc!" Her voice is loud and carries, and makes me stop. I turn slowly on my heel to face her. She's still wearing that smile, and it's starting to become clear to me why. Alex must have told her about us. "You still doing the interns?"

"Excuse me?" If indignation ever needs a mascot, I'm a great candidate right now.

"The first years. You're supervising them, right?" Her innocent clarification deflates my irritation almost instantly. A little longer and I would most likely have given myself away. "Could you please tell my asshole of a friend to return my messages? I know she's not dead, because I'm her In Case of Emergency and would've for sure gotten a call if that happened. So can you just ask her to call me?"

"Yeah, sure." Anybody else want to add to the list of things to tell Alex today? I'm taking submissions. Apparently.

"But not for the next six hours," she says, backing up. I didn't even notice her partner arrive, but see he's already getting into their ride. "I'm on my way home to sleep this shit off. But after that. Tell her to call me, or else. See ya around, Doc."

I watch the ambulance roll out, the plumes from the exhaust making pretty patterns in its wake. So they're not just colleagues. The idea of Alex having friends seems strange to me. I've never thought of her as a normal, social person. Only ever as my-

"One more thing…"

Yet again, Polly's sudden appearance at my side makes me jump.

"What now?"

Her face is strangely serious. More serious than before, and that's saying something. "Charlie Bucknam." It's just a name. But it sends a chill through me. "Mine's Sarah-"

"Sarah-Jane Woodall, I know. What are you doing? Why are you talking about this now?"

"Because, Piper, he's not technically her patient, but she's sure as hell acting like it. We've both been there. Luckily we had more than a week of this…" She motions her hand to the hospital in general. "She doesn't have that luxury. You're her mentor, or supervisor, or whatever…" she says again.

I get it. I get what she's saying. "Shit. Okay." Those are the words I can manage, so I say them.

"Okay?" She asks it as if she doesn't think I can handle it.

"I'll handle it."

"You better make it sooner rather than later."

"I said I'll handle it, Pol."

"Good," she says.

We step within range of the sensors, making the doors slide open with a hush. All of a sudden, the world I was avoiding a few minutes ago, is even worse than I first thought. The cold lighting is practically blinding after the outside gloom, drawing an even greater contrast between being fine and not-so-fine.

But Polly's right. It's my job and my responsibility to deal with Alex, and the act of dealing is best accomplished by treating it like a band-aid. I just have to get it over and done with. Now that my mind's set, I have to find Alex before it has time to chicken out.

I've had my fair share of nights in-house, and my first priority was always a shower before rounds. Although before, it was a whole lot easier to work extended hours. Nobody cared. With the new rules, Alex would have to get up a lot earlier. If she were smart, she'd make it look like she only just got here when the attendings start showing up. So even though it's barely 6am, I have a good feeling I'll find her in the intern locker room, and not in the NICU where Polly just headed.

I pass three on-call rooms on my way. I kind of know she's not in there, but Polly's words are still swimming around in my head—the bit about some nurse being into Alex—and I can't help myself. The call rooms are go-to's for couples hooking up. Over the years I've unintentionally walked in on dozens of said hook-ups, which led to me claiming one as my own. Totally off limits to every other staff member. The ones I check are all empty and thank god, because I haven't exactly worked out what my reaction would've been if my fear was realized. Wait, my fear? Since when? I need to get out of my head. It's clearly not the safest place to be right now.

When I push open the door to the locker room, it's with more care than necessary. What if my fake night with her is written all over my face and she sees it? I know enough of Alex Vause to know she doesn't miss anything. Racing heart, dry mouth. It's like I want her to be in there, but I also don't. I haven't been alone in a room with Alex for days. Because bad things usually happen. Or really great things. But that was one time. Since then, it's been mostly bad…

With my face under strict control, and my breathing finally even, I step inside. My logic about the shower is what brought me here. Logic therefore suggests that I'd be expecting the thing I see when I walk in. But in the world of Piper Chapman, at least for the moment, logic is indefinitely suspended. Because I'm looking at Alex looking at me, and she's in nothing but a towel—all wet hair clinging to bare shoulders and legs that don't ever stop. It slipped my mind how easy it is to get so caught up in her that I forget how to breathe.

I can't decide what about her hits me first. Her hair's down. The last time I saw her like that… well, she was wearing a whole lot less than a towel. Her eyes. Without her glasses they look even greener. But I already knew that. I just didn't expect to have to deal with it now. I wasn't ready.

"Hey." She says it like this is the most normal thing ever—her being half naked in front of me, and goes over to her locker.

 _Hey…_ the response bounces around my head, but for the life of me can't find its way out of my mouth.

My feet have sprouted roots that dig deep, so I can only swivel on the spot to follow her course. I should check that we're alone, but can't. My eyes don't want to look away just yet. I'm just gonna go ahead and guess that she wouldn't be walking around like that if there was more than an audience of me.

"What are you doing?" Stupid question, but I'm just grateful for any words at all. The more they come, the better I can hide behind them.

"You mean besides getting out of the shower?"

"I mean at all."

And then she's looking at me, fresh pair of scrubs in hand. "She told you, didn't she? I should've known not to trust her. Asshole."

"That's my friend and your superior you're talking about."

"I wasn't- Wait, you mean Harper told you?"

"Who did you think it was?" The nurse, that's who she's thinking of. The idea of it makes me want to hit something.

"So I guess you're here to tell me to go home." She avoids my question and I let her win. Alex in a towel wins everything. "I hate to break it to you, but that's not gonna happen. Not today."

The baby. The reason she's been camping out here. But if I can get her to leave, it'll take care of the other thing Polly made my responsibility too. Shit. Alex is as stubborn as a mule, and I just know this is a fight I'm going to lose. I open my mouth to start my counter-argument but at that same moment the standard issue, washed too many times LGH towel falls away from her body, and renders me completely mute.

It's like someone took the remote control of my life and hit the slow-mo button as I watch it flutter listlessly to pool at her perfect bare feet. And because we're in slow-mo, my eyes take their own sweet time as they graze their way back up her still glistening body, naming every inch of her skin, christening it, blessing it, wanting to reach out and

"Boobs…" Instead of saying what I planned, the universe decides now's the time to kick me in the gut.

Her eyebrows shoot up in surprised amusement and that signature smirk creeps onto her face. Eyes. Averted. Look the fuck away! I backpedal. I fucking scramble to find a recovery point.

"I mean- jesus…" It's hopeless. I'm floundering and what's worse is she knows it. I wish I was holding that remote control, so I could find the reset button and have a do-over. Fuck.

"You okay over there?" She gives a soft chuckle that sounds like rippling velvet in the emptiness around us, and starts dressing.

Every movement is pure torture. The ones I catch anyway, because I'm still working extra hard not to look.

"A little warning would've been nice."

"It's nothing you haven't seen before." I can hear the smile in her voice when she says it. "Seen and rather enjoyed, if memory serves."

"Please don't." Now I'm looking at her and thank god she made quick work of getting dressed, so I don't have to find that spot on the floor so interesting anymore.

Her tone is filled with laughter when she speaks next: "Relax, I'm kidding. Or is there a rule that states I can't kid around with you."

"This is a hospital, not a comedy club." It's snarky and unfair. Taking out on her the frustration I'm feeling with myself. I just wish it wasn't so easy for her to get to me.

"No shit. Like I would think differently when you're constantly skulking around, being the opposite of pleasant."

"You finished?" I startle a little at the sound of her locker slamming, and she stands there, arms folded across her chest, staring at me expectantly.

"Was there something else?"

"It's just a little consideration for the rules, that's all it takes. The way you're behaving doesn't only affect you."

"Fine, I'll follow the rules. But not today."

"Alex-"

"Please… Piper… you can't ask me to leave." All kidding aside, she's being totally serious.

A moment of sincerity from Alex always feels like a special honor that should be savored, her being the smartass she usually is, and I feel myself giving in.

"If I let it slide, I'm opening myself up for more insubordination down the road, and-"

"Insubordination? Are you kidding me?"

She starts her way toward me, and even though she's dressed, I'm still two minutes ago when she wasn't, and it's suddenly way too hot in here.

"If your attending knows, there are probably others, and they'll be expecting me to take some kind of action with you. Not to mention your new girlfriend who's been helping you break the rules."

"My girlfriend?" She gets that playful glint in her eyes, and I just wish she'd put her glasses back on already, because I really can't deal with the invasiveness of them in all their bare emerald glory. "What's that supposed to mean?" Oh, she's enjoying this. A little too much maybe. And getting a little too close.

I take a step back. "Nothing. Never mind."

"No, what did you mean by that?"

"I said nothing. I said never mind."

"What, you expect me to wait for you to come around?"

Oh no she didn't… "Come around? As in what, jump back into bed with you? You're the one who said you're not interested. Which, anyway, is beside the point."

"It is?"

"Yes, I just want you to follow the rules, and for us to move forward. Maybe even be friends. Platonically. Be platonic friends."

"I don't need more of those, thanks. And more importantly, I wasn't suggesting a roll in the sack, you Park Slope narcissist. I mean for you to come around and treat me like an actual human being."

"Because that's not what I've been doing?" The heat in my chest is slowly churning to a boil.

Only Alex could get me from wanting to drag her into the nearest supply closet and fuck her brains out, to wanting to push her off the roof of a building in three seconds flat.

"Hell no. And ever since the other night you've been worse. I feel like I'm just another number to you. You know, like the numbers you call your interns because you couldn't be bothered to treat them like actual people either. But you wanna be friends? Do you even know how that works?"

I flash back to the robotic hand from my dream… Years of putting up this wall to protect myself, forgetting that at the same time what I was doing, was blocking people out. I don't even know if I can take that back. If it's too late to even try. And if it isn't, I wouldn't know where to start.

"You're right. I'm a machine. Which means there's no-one more qualified to tell you that people and relationships get messy, and your career ends up paying. Something tells me, with how hard you worked to get into this program, it's important to you. If it gets out that you're-"

"Please, don't act like you're concerned for me and my career. We both know this is about you."

"Me?"

"Yeah, you. How it'll make you look. Your precious reputation. Interns stepping out of line on Chapman's watch? God forbid."

"I'm trying to look out for you."

"You're looking out for yourself. Keeping me in line keeps you out of the hot seat with the Chief."

"It also keeps you out of trouble."

"Fine, after today, I promise to be a good little number. The kind who's early for rounds and leaves when she's supposed to. Yes sir, no sir, whatever you fucking say, sir. All I'm asking is that you look the other way for the next few hours. I guess you could call it a favor. A platonic one. Between platonic friends."

Friends… the way she says it makes it sound like the opposite of what the word's supposed to mean, and that's my fault I guess.

"Okay fine." As if there was ever a doubt that she'd have her way with me.

"Thank you," she says, visibly relieved.

I guess I did a good job of making it look like I'd be a tough nut to crack. Little does she know…

"But you have to keep your head down. Stay out of everyone's way, and don't do anything stupid to draw attention to yourself."

"Who me?" she says, that easy playfulness back again. I'm glad. I like her better this way.

"Alex, I mean it." I work hard to keep from returning her smile. She's okay, I'm okay, she smiles, I smile, god I need a drink.

The pocket of cold air around me suddenly warms up on the left because that's where she is now. Right next to me. Her voice comes low and honey… "Anything you say, Boss."

She smells like summer at the lake as she pushes past me to leave, and I wait until every last trace of her is gone before I do the same.

* * *

Stairwell wins the toss over elevators as I make my way up to the NICU. I wanna get there fast, but I also suddenly have a surge of energy I need to get rid of. Stretching my legs across two, sometimes three steps at a time, I'm vaguely aware that this could be due to two things:

1- I just walked away from the first civil, normal, un-crazy conversation that Piper and I've had in days. And 2- She was totally jealous!

I'm not exactly sure how she even knows about Laney, but this is a hospital, after all. The only other place where news spreads faster is prison.

Should I have set her straight about the theater nurse? Told her that we barely speak, and although I know she's probably on the verge of making a move, I have no intention of rising to whatever expectations she may or may not have? I probably should've. But it's so much fun watching Piper squirm…

I reach the NICU floor anxious to see how the little tyke's holding up. It's been more than four hours since I last checked. Is it wrong to feel like I've missed him?

My feet freeze on the threshold to the nursery. The whole gang's already here, plus a new face I don't know.

"Nice of you to finally show, Doctor Vause." Fig doesn't look up from the chart she's holding. The chart I have a strong urge to pull from her bony little fingers.

She's not supposed to be here yet. I'm supposed to have some time alone with him…

"I'm an hour early." The attention's making me uncomfortable. I wasn't exactly prepared to make a grand entrance.

"According to whom? Because we've been here for nearly thirty minutes."

Shit. I didn't think the shower would throw me out so much. But it wasn't just the shower—it was Piper too.

Of course Brook, in all her smugness, is enjoying that I'm being unfairly grilled. Harper's gaze darts up to my still damp hair tied into a messy bun on top of my head. She doesn't know I know she knows. Or does she?

"Traffic was pretty bad, sorry." I don't look at her when I say it. I don't look at anyone.

"Traffic? You mean on your way up from the on call room where you spent the night?"

Oh Brook, please join me in a secluded spot so I can smash your fucking face in.

I can feel everyone's eyes on me now. Mine are burning into the soft, pink wrinkles of the baby's foot.

"Claws in, Miss Miyagi. Let's keep the cat fights for after work," Fig says.

I can't help but look up. Did I just hear that? Did the head of Cardio just come to my defense? And make a possibly racist jab in the process? Talk about a one-two punch. The gesture relaxes me, and I take a few steps inside. Standing close to, but not quite inside, their little group around the incubator of the patient whose fate is about to be decided.

Fig's got her head in the chart, and we're all watching her. I wish I knew what it said. Then I'd have an idea of what's about to happen, and wouldn't be standing here about to jump out of my skin. I hate feeling like this. I hate not knowing.

Finally she looks up. I still don't feel safe enough to breathe. "Morello." We all jump at the way she says it, her voice commanding the room. Even the baby gives a jerk at the sudden loud noise. "What do you think?"

"Me?" So the new face I don't know now has a name, and she looks pretty confused about why Fig even cares what she thinks.

"Before I tell you all what I think, I'd like to hear everyone's thoughts. You're a fourth year resident, what are yours?"

"Um, he's been holding up fine, Doctor Figueroa. It's all there in the chart."

"If by fine you mean his vitals are sketchy... Multiple arrests. What about you?"

Brook's eyes widen at the quick shift of Fig's attention to her, but she doesn't miss a beat and answers with "I'm with you, Doctor. You obviously know best, with all of your experience and-"

"Sucking up is scheduled between the hours of 3 and 5pm. Make a note. Vause?"

I don't have to think about this one. "I'd do it. I'd do the surgery."

"You're not thinking like a surgeon."

My jaw clenches reflexively to stop the inappropriate names I'm calling her in my head from coming out, and I go with a tight-lipped "I'd operate" instead, determined not to shrink under her unmoving stare.

"Did all of you check your brains in at the door when you got here? Harper, has the kid turned you into a senseless lump of mush too?"

"He deserves a chance. His vitals aren't great, but they've been steady, and he hasn't coded in almost nineteen hours."

"Oh, almost… let's base a life or death decision on an almost, shall we?"

"He's getting stronger all the time," Harper argues, and I'm grateful that she's not backing down. "And the mother wants the surgery."

"The mother's not the one who's going to have to make a little tick in the People Who's Died By My Hand column."

"Jesus…" It just slips out, and even though it's under my breath, the room is so quiet and fraught with tension, it's easily heard.

And not surprisingly, Fig pounces on it. "Jesus, Doctor Vause, doesn't like to get his hands dirty. He prefers to watch others do it."

"You know what-"

"We're all clearly emotional right now," Harper jumps in before I can finish. Even holds her arm out in front of me, like she was expecting me to lunge across the incubator to rip Fig's face off. "So let me make this easy… I've reviewed the case and—taking into account the mother's wishes—am going ahead with the surgery. You're not the only one who can do it." Fig scoffs brazenly at this, but it doesn't throw Harper. She doesn't show it often, but the girl clearly has a pair of balls. Only pulls it out when really necessary, it seems. "Sure, you're our best option, but if you won't do it, I'll find a surgeon who will. Today's the last day we're looking at this boy's heart."

Fig's shaking her head. "You won't find a surgeon who'll touch this kid with a ten-foot pole once I'm through with them."

And then she stops talking. She stops because a loud beeping is filling the room. I check the monitors, but they're all fine. When I look around though, all eyes are on me.

Fig's the one to speak up "You gonna get that? Or has it become standard practice for you to ignore your pager?"

My pager? I'm with my attending. Who would be paging me?

"It's the ER." I look at Brook. "You too?"

"Nope." She shakes her head, and I'm pretty sure I see the hint of a smile. Happy to have me called away from the only case I care about.

"I don't understand. Why would I be paged to the ER? I'm on your service."

Harper starts to say something, but she's forgotten the floor doesn't belong to her. Fig quickly interjects- "The only way to find out is to get down there."

"But-"

"You should probably run. Someone could be dying."

"Just tell me then… are you doing the surgery or not?"

"Skeedaddle, Doctor Vause. Chop chop."

I'm looking to Harper to back me up again, but she just shakes her head. Great. And now that Fig knows how much it'll frustrate me, she's holding off on saying anything else about her decision. I'm not about to give her the satisfaction of seeing me affected by it, so I shove the pager back into my pocket, take one last look at the little tyke, and head out. A part of me is happy to do it too. It was starting to get a little claustrophobic. Too much ego for my liking.

I duck back into the stairwell. This time I'm putting the three flights to work for a whole other reason. I can't believe this. Today was supposed to be about the kid. All I wanted was to see him get his surgery, see him be okay… Instead I have to deal with bitter interns, incorrigible heart surgeons and being paged away from my allocated service, and for what?

It's pretty quiet when I get down to the trenches. I'm used to getting in here when shit's going down. This morning it feels almost peaceful. A few doctors with their heads down on their way to some place more exciting I'm sure, someone being stitched up, a couple of cops…?

"Hey, I was just paged…" I kind of let that hang in the air for a while as the desk nurse gives me the once over.

"Right," she says finally, like she only just remembered what the emergency was. "Follow me."

She takes me over to a bed with the privacy curtains drawn. A bed apparently under guard by cops. I'm starting to think there's a rabbit hole around here somewhere that I got sucked into, because what the hell is going on…

"Nurse, how much longer is this going to take?" a pudgy-looking cop asks. He doesn't seem too impressed with his gig.

"The doctor's here now. She'll get it done."

Wait, she's referring to me? I'm the doctor?

A bedpan stuffed with a pair of gloves, forceps and lube is shoved into my chest and I make a fumbling grab for it to keep from having it clatter to the floor.

"Search and retrieve behind curtain number three. He's all yours."

"What?"

The nurse shifts her weight from one foot to the other, looking like she's losing patience with my cluelessness, and fast. The Mickey Mouse puffs on top of her head shake with the neck check she gives me. I am so confused.

"Guy swallowed a bag of dope. It's pretty much in the final stretch."

"Are you kidding me? Isn't there a nurse who can do this?"

"You see any?"

I scan the area desperately, but quickly get her point. "You. Why don't you do it?"

"I'm kinda busy. Very important file needs to be filed, you know how it goes."

This can't be real. "And… anyway… a mule can pass a load anywhere. Down at the station, in the street. Why is he here?"

"Two weeks ago we had a case where the package ripped open and the contents got into the perp's bloodstream," the other cop explains. "Pretty girl. Nineteen and a gut flooded with heroin. Dead. We thought we'd be safe this time around."

I'm hearing him, I'm nodding, I still don't have a clue why I'm the one who was paged to do this.

"Why the forceps? Can't you just wait for him to go… naturally?"

"That's what we've been doing, but now he's closed up. Says it hurts too much. It's right there. All you gotta do is…" The nurse makes a popping sound with her mouth that I'm sure will now haunt my dreams forever.

A loud groan ushers out from behind the curtain and is followed by a series of pained moans.

"Can we hurry it up, Doc?" Pudgy Cop. "I gotta be at my daughter's recital in an hour and we still gotta get this guy booked."

I look at the nurse, who stares me down, so I look at the cops, who are waiting… There's no way out but in.

The next few minutes go by in a blur. I deliberately fill my head with any random thought that doesn't involve fingers up assholes, and work hard to keep them at the forefront of my mind. Avoiding the smell isn't that easy though, and by the time I step out from behind the curtain, I can tell by the looks I'm getting, that my face is a crisp canvas of the revulsion I'm feeling.

"It's done."

The cops snigger as they move past me to get their guy. Assholes.

I've just about made my mind up to head back to the NICU, when my pager goes off again. I catch the puffy haired nurse giving me the side-eye, but when she sees me looking she busies herself with her files that need filing. Something about this isn't right.

The elevator takes me up to 2nd, and the bustling of the general ward draws a stark contrast to the cold quiet of the trenches.

"You Vause?"

I turn when I hear my name, and am met yet again by a nurse.

"Yes, I'm a first year, on Doctor Harper's-"

"Three-Seventeen," she says in a flat voice that says she doesn't give a shit about what I have to say, and pushes a tray toward me.

"What is this?"

"They didn't cover enemas in med school?"

My jaw clamps down on words better left unsaid. "I know what it is. What do you want me to do with it?"

"Oh, so _that's_ the part they didn't cover in med school. I'd ask my money back if I were you."

And now it's a staring contest. One that, I'm afraid to admit, I'm losing. What is it with nurses and their strict school teacher vibe?

"Threee seventeeeen." She says it slowly, like I'm a special case or something, and I swipe for the tray just to get away from her.

If I had any idea what the next few hours held for me, I would've really taken my time with Mrs. Sloane and her enema. Instead, I rushed through it. Only to be totally available for the other million pages that came through after.

It's well after lunch when I step out of the intern locker room in my third set of scrubs for the day. And here I was thinking being up close and personal with a stranger's nether regions would be the worst of it. What I've learned about myself in the past few hours, is that my dislike for gross parts of the human body is nothing compared to my loathing for gross substances that come out of it. No amount of EMT work could make me used to this.

I clip my pager onto my waistband—the movement is careful, like if I handle it too roughly, it'll start beeping again—and speedwalk through the trenches. It's busier than I left it this morning, and usually I'd spare a glance around to see if I could maybe poach something cool from someone. But right now, my sights are set on the doors at the opposite end of the room. I want out.

My face wakes up in icy prickles as I step outside, and I hug my lab coat close to ward off the same effect anywhere else. There's nothing more than a light drizzle, but the weight of the sky promises that's gonna change soon. I take a deep breath as my sneakers slosh along the wet ground. The air is cold and clean and not inside, so it's perfect.

"What the fuck!"

I turn to the familiar greeting from the familiar face. "Hey Nick."

She's bounding toward me like it's nobody's business. "Is that it? Is that all you're gonna say?"

"I came out here for some peace and quiet, so can we just be here and do that, please? What are you doing here anyway?"

"Fucking mud pie Jonas called in sick, so I'm taking it. But whatever, I could use the cash. Who needs sleep anyway, right? What're _you_ doing out here?"

"I've been running scut since before the sun came up. I've been shit on, puked on, had my finger up so many assholes it's starting to feel like a bad day in Urology class."

"Or a regular Saturday night for me."

"Something's not right though Nick." I finally voice the thing that's been nagging at me since my third or fourth page.

The part I don't say, is that I suspect Piper's behind it… And just like that I'm over the fresh air and being outside, because just like that it all makes sense. Of course Piper's behind it. An ego like hers gets things right in places like this. She could easily have told the nurses to use me as first call whenever something gross came up. Why? Because it would piss me off. What more reason would she need?

"Honey, I hate to break it to ya, but scut is your best friend now. Scratch that—it's your fucked up, puke and shit covered Siamese twin. This is your life. Deal with it."

"No. I know about the lackey work that rolls downhill, but this is different. I haven't seen any of the other interns doing half the shit I've been paged for today. Running labs, delivering film for residents I don't even know…"

"Let me guess, the government's listening to your conversations and aliens are stealing your thoughts too?"

"I'm being serious."

"Me too. Where's your tinfoil hat? Gotta block that shit out."

"Forget I said anything." Sometimes having a best friend like Nicky is the best. Sometimes, like now, it really doesn't help.

"Hey Grumpy Pants, chill out. Every bad day has a silver lining. Gum?"

"No thanks, I'm working."

"All the more reason…"

A shrill beeping breaks into the air between us. Fuck me.

"Puke City calling…" Nicky says with a laugh.

I check my pager and am relieved to see it's not a new case. "Labs for one of my patients from earlier. It can wait."

"Don't look now." Nicky's looking past me over my right shoulder, and I can't resist the temptation to turn around. I mean seriously, who in the history of the world, has ever listened when someone told them not to look? "I said don't look," she says, and even though I can't see Nicky's face, I can hear the cocky smile she's wearing.

Piper looks over and sees us before I can turn back around and act like she was never there. Honestly, all I wanted was to be alone for a few minutes… I feel movement next to me and when I look, it's Nicky. Waving.

"What are you-?"

"Shut up, she's coming over," Nicky says through her teeth without moving the smile plastered on her face.

"I'm gonna kill you."

"Looking forward to it." Her eyes are on Piper approaching, close enough that I can make out her footsteps on the asphalt, but I'm still intent on killing the whole too blasé to pay attention act.

"I didn't expect to see you back here until tonight maybe," Piper says to Nicky as she comes up to where we're standing. "Hey Alex."

I acknowledge her presence with a nod but I think I'm pissed off at her, and until that feeling's dispelled, that's where my acknowledgment will end.

"What can I say, I just can't stay away from this place," Nicky says. "Possible stroke? I heard the call come through in the van."

"Yeah, I figured I'd wait."

She seems self-conscious. Maybe even shy? As literally shitty as my day's been, and as pissed off as I think I am, this moment makes up for it. I love how hopeless Piper is at hiding.

"Where are your minions?" Probably the second thing I noticed when I spotted her in the bay—not an intern in sight.

"I buried them in paperwork. Needed some space. What are you doing out here? It's freezing."

"Space…" I say with a shrug.

"Fuckin interns amiright? Gum?" Nicky butts in with a stick of gum practically under Piper's nose. I almost forgot she was here.

"Don't eat the gum."

"Why not?"

"Ignore her," Nicky says. "Be your own person and what-not."

And then, either because I said what I said and Piper can't help but be contrary, or because she really, really likes gum, she says "Thanks" and pops it into her mouth.

"It's tequila flavored," Nicky says proudly.

"Wow, that's… that's pretty accurate," she says, chewing slowly.

"I should think so. I used the good shit this time."

Piper's face clouds with confusion. The polar opposite of Nicky's shit-eating grin. I don't feel bad. I tried to warn her.

"What do you mean?" Piper asks all narrow eyes. The chewing has slowed down even more. It's actually starting to be a little funny.

"Tequila," Nicky replies matter-of-factly, "In the gum. It takes me forever, because I actually inject each stick individually before-"

The sound of a gum missile interrupts the end of Nicky's sentence, as Piper spits the half-chewed lump into the street ahead of us.

"You gave me actual alcohol? While I'm on duty?" She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, sounding like she's balancing on the thin line between amused and angry.

I'm a little disappointed when three whoops from the approaching siren cuts off Nicky's response, because I was looking forward to hearing her talk herself out of this one. Now Piper's attention is also shifted and she backs off with nothing more than a shake of her head (yeah Pipes, I know… try living with her) and goes to meet the ambulance as it pulls into the bay.

The two of us stand there watching Piper help the EMTs usher the rolling stretcher from the back.

"I wish my silver linings had an ass like that."

"Shut up, Nick."

"What? I'm just saying…" and then after a beat "She likes you."

This gets me to look away from Piper. "How much of that gum have you had?"

"You're blushing."

"Shut up, it's the cold." But I turn my face from her anyway.

"You want in?!" It's Piper. She's looking this way again. Standing in the drop zone with her patient on a gurney and waiting for me to say something.

But the sight of her like that, wisps of her faltering bed-head bun feathering across her face thanks to the breeze that's picked up… It makes my chest tighten. It makes it hard to remember basic things. Like that I'm supposed to be mad at her. Or how to breathe.

I get an elbow to the ribs—Nicky jump-starting my frozen brain. "I have a thing," I call back. Really, Alex? You have a thing?

"Is it OR time?" And even from all the way over here, I can see the hint of a smile as she says it.

There's a flat hand pushing into the small of my back, forcing me forward. "Go get her, Tiger."

So this becomes one of the very few, very very few times when I give in and listen to Nicky. Because I'm not so mad at Piper that I'd choose to do menial labor instead. Also, she picked me. And that hasn't happened since that night outside the bar.

With trauma, nothing moves faster than time. It's always the clock you have to beat. If you too slow, someone dies. Everything happens fast and at the same time, and everything's a blur. All you want is a steady pulse and even breath sounds, and you do what you have to do to get it. I've felt ribs crack under my pressure—doing what I had to do—more times than I can count.

But in the OR it's the complete opposite. In the OR time stands still. Desperation to save a life is contained. Focused. And Piper in the OR… that's in a whole other league altogether.

So I have a brain in front of me, and all I can do is look at her. The way her eyebrows are set in super concentration. The blues of her eyes are a thousand times brighter in this light. I just know her lips are tightly drawn beneath that mask. Also a sign of her intense focus that I've seen a few times before. Her hands… the way her fingers move… Piper looks the way an intricately beautiful symphony sounds.

"Doctor Vause…" She says my name and I feel like I've been caught doing something wrong.

A quick glance around the OR tells me no-one else noticed my reaction. They're all too taken with what's going on to care about a lowly little intern. I know a question's coming, and I start freaking out because I haven't exactly been paying attention.

"Why am I not doing a full resection?"

Oh thank the gods of the OR for cutting me some slack. "The tumor's placement. It's on his optic nerve, and a full resection would risk blindness."

The patient was stable when he arrived, so we ran a scan. Turned out the stroke wasn't really a stroke, but symptoms caused by pressure from a tumor.

"Way forward?"she asks, her fingers never once stopping their task.

"We test for the type and grade, and then plan treatment accordingly. Usually a combination of radiation and oral chemo."

"Good. And if it's GBM, he could be the first patient inducted into my trial, so here's to hoping..."

"Hoping someone has an incurable cancer… unconventional perspective, but I see the career value."

"Everyone with that type of cancer dies. If this patient enters my trial and lives, everyone else lives too. Hardly about my career."

And that's how Piper shuts me up. It's also how she changes my mind about her. Yeah, she doesn't go around with her emotions raging on her sleeve, but her heart's in the right place. She's not just a good surgeon, she's a good person.

I suddenly feel bad for giving her so much shit about her speech. I feel bad about giving her any shit at all.

"Hey Piper…" I break into a jog to catch up with her down the hall.

She was the first to leave after the surgery, and it took me longer than I thought it would to get rid of my theater gear.

I finally get to her, and she waits patiently for me to catch my breath. "Sorry. About what I said in there."

She's surprisingly cool when she says "You didn't know what you were talking about. Now you do."

"Still, it wasn't the place to-"

And then my fucking pager goes off again, ripping through the end of my sentence. I remember the labs I blew off earlier. Fuck my life. And then I remember the other thing…

"You know, this thing has been going crazy all day. You wouldn't know anything about that, would you?"

"Why you're being paged? Why would I?" Something flickers behind her eyes but I don't get a chance to name it because she looks away.

"It's like I've magically transformed into Litchfield Gen's resident scut monkey. I've been so busy I haven't had a chance to check in with Harper since this morning."

"Every task, no matter how menial, is a learning experience."

That, that right there… Back behind the Great Wall of Chapman… It's a thing of wonder actually, how quickly the change happens. Piper gone and in her place, the surgeon with cold eyes. Only, her eyes aren't exactly cold right now. They look almost apologetic.

I was right.

Well okay then, Pipes, you wanna play? I'll play.

"Look, I can respect that you need ways to get over me, and if this is your process, then go ahead. But at least have the balls to-"

"Wait, get over you?" Her face right now tells me I struck the nerve I was looking for. I got her so good, she's not even doing that thing she does where she keeps checking to see if anyone's watching or within earshot. " _Get over you_? Are you high?"

"It is what it is, Pipes sorry- Doctor Chapman." Ooh, she hates that. Hates that I called her Pipes, and hates that I corrected myself before she could.

There's the angry nostril flare I've come to know so well over the past few days. Boy, am I gonna get it now… But the beeping starts up again, interrupting whatever response she was building up.

"I have to go," I say, feeling a little better about my slave labor. And also that I get to leave her standing there with a mouth full of self-righteous indignation and no-one to spew it on.

* * *

"I should be starving, but... god, this day." Polly's head drops into her hands.

I have a mouthful of chicken salad, so can't respond right away, but even if I could... It's just one of those things you acknowledge by saying nothing. It's a hard day for her. Very few things are worse than feeling helpless about a patient.

The surgery was halted, but we're nearing the tail end of our shift and the kid's still hanging in there. All he needs to do is keep on keeping on, and Fig won't have a choice. Polly knows this, but she also knows how volatile the situation is. It could turn in a second.

I watch my friend closely as she moves through the phases of her silent freak out. As strong as I am, as capable as I am of distancing myself, Polly is a hundred times stronger. Because of the nature of her field. But the distancing part is where she falls behind… And as good as I am at it, if someone were to shove me in to the NICU for five years and tell me to feel nothing, I'd probably be the same as her. A hopeless failure at it.

"Where's Alex?" Polly asks suddenly, looking up.

"What? Why?"

"No reason. I just expected her to be sitting sentinel up there. Refusing to move."

Guilt. Right in the middle of my gut. Where did that come from?

"I told you I'll handle it."

"Yeah, you said the words, but I didn't think you'd have the balls."

"Gee thanks."

"Also, I didn't think she'd actually listen to you."

"Well, here we are…"

"Huh… maybe she's finally acclimatizing. Shirking her renegade ways."

"I wouldn't count on it."

"Like you said—here we are."

I'm pushing the last of my salad around on the plate, my appetite suddenly gone. That stupid ball of guilt is growing.

"What's that face?" Polly asks, never one to miss this kind of thing with me.

"Nothing. It's no face."

"Piper, what did you do?"

"Nothing. Alex is… an unconventional case, and so I simply made use of unconventional methods, that's all."

"I don't like the sound of that."

"Relax, I've got this." But I don't have anything. When I first thought of it, it felt like a good plan. But now, under Polly's scrutiny and hindsight, I'm starting to doubt myself.

"Yeah right, famous last words."

"Trust me, Pol, she's fine. She was actually in surgery with me earlier."

"Yeah? Was that the part of the day where you two were fine with each other? I mean, before the part where you hate her guts or whatever."

"No, no, we've… it's been a good Alex day. Things are… I mean she's…"

"Shit."

"What?"

She's looking at me and shaking her head, a ghost of a smile playing on her lips. I'm not exactly happy with the turn of events putting me under Polly's spotlight, but it's clear her mood is lifting and she seems to be relaxing for the first time since we sat down, so I decide to be a good friend and suck it up for her sake.

"You know, the Repulsion Theory states that the more you dislike a person, the greater the chances of you eventually dating that person."

"Date? As in have a relationship? With Alex?"

"See, now you're doing the whole lady protesting too much thing, which only serves to back up my initial observation."

"So according to this theory, I subconsciously or whatever… I want Alex to be my girlfriend."

"You gonna slip me a note in the middle of third period and have me circle yes or no?" Alex says, a huge grin on her face as she slips into the vacant chair to my left. Having appeared from nowhere, at just the right time, to hear just the right part of my conversation.

"How so you do that?" Seriously, it happened that night at the bar, and now again?

"Do what?"

"Show up and hear things that are- that wasn't what it- I was just saying to Pol- Doctor Harper, that it's not what I want. At all. Ever. Under any circumstance. Ever."

"I think she gets it, Piper."

"No, she- Did you hear what I said?" Alex is still grinning at me, and I'm still stumbling over the thoughts in my head, forgetting how to say words.

"Heard you loud and clear, Doc."

"Okay. Good. What are you doing here?"

"Uh, I was just gonna grab a coffee before heading upstairs. How's he doing by the way?" she turns her attention to Polly.

"He's fine. Same as this morning."

"Good. That's good, right?"

"Well it's not bad, so…"

"This day has been so crazy. I have surgery with Wash in a bit. Have to prep the patient, but thought I'd steal a minute to check in."

"That's probably not a good idea," I cut in. And the way she looks at me… Shit. I have a sense my good Alex day is about to come to a blustering end.

"What?"

"I just mean, you should focus on the tasks assigned to you. It'll look bad if-"

"It'll only take a minute."

"Well, you still have to submit the post-op reports for my patient, and then there's-"

"Fuck." She falls back in her chair, and that look… The playful lightness is gone from her expression, and the way she's studying my face… I shift uncomfortably in my seat, vaguely aware of Polly's attention, but mostly concerned about the wheels I can see turning in Alex's head. "You didn't do it to piss me off, did you?"

"Do what?" I ask, softly, anxiously…

"All of it. The scut, the surgery… You did it to keep me busy. To keep me from him."

"Alex-"

"I can't believe you!" Her temper flares up, and I'm suddenly grateful for the relatively quiet state of the cafeteria right now.

"I did what I thought was right. You were getting too close to the case."

"The case. The case is a fucking baby, Piper."

"I was only trying to look out for you."

"Bullshit. It's all bullshit."

"Alex-"

"You were concerned about me losing my shit if things didn't work out. Because it'd make you look bad. That's all you care about."

"No."

"What you look like to everyone. Your precious reputation."

"I've been there, okay. I know what it's like. And I just wanted to save you the-"

"Yeah well I'm not yours to save."

"That's not what I-"

"Don't. I don't wanna hear it. I don't wanna look at you. And you can do your own fucking post-op."

She leaves the table in a blur of green swimming in salt and hair that's coming undone, and I feel like I'm doing the same. Coming undone. What was I thinking? How could I think this would work?

"I'll tell you something…"

"Please don't. Please tell me no things."

"You two are perfect for each other."

But I can't acknowledge Polly's attempt to lighten the mood, because I'm feeling like the biggest asshole.

"Hey, Chief's on the deck in five," Bailey, one of the fourth year residents, says as he sweeps by our table.

"Why can't he send an email like a normal person?" Polly asks, but he's already on his way out, so she turns her attention back to me. "Honestly, he acts like the Pope standing up there reading his asinine announcements to us. Like he's expecting us to kiss his ring or something."

"I need to get some air."

"Well it's going to have to wait," she says and gets up to follow the way Bailey went.

The attendings and senior residents gather below the mezzanine level outside Caputo's office. Referred to as the deck, it's where he usually stands when he wants to tell us something. It's a nuisance more than anything, but thankfully doesn't happen often.

I notice the night shift staff filling up the atrium with us. How did it get so late so quickly? Already time for the hand-over hour. Wash is notably absent. Because of her surgery. I breathe a little easier knowing that Alex is with her, being usefully distracted for the time being.

"Tomorrow night," Caputo commands everyone's attention, "it's the annual fundraising gala."

A wave of disgruntled groans works through our small crowd. We know what's coming next.

"Wait, you haven't heard the best part…" the chief continues, "Attendance is mandatory."

This time the groans make way for verbal remarks of irritation and downright refusal. I'm just standing here watching it all happen, because I know there's no way I'm going to this thing.

"Listen… Quiet! Listen, the new scanner we bought in three months ago? That was them. The lawsuit we dealt with two years ago? If it wasn't for them, we'd still be digging our way out of that hole. I want all my attendings there. We need to make a united and head-count heavy showing of appreciation and gratitude. If you're on call, HR has figured out a schedule that gives you 45 minutes of showing your face in a rotation, so there'll always be a senior attending here. This is not a negotiation. Residents will receive the same kind of schedule, but there's more of you, so you'll be expected to stay longer. Check your emails."

"Wait, you want to leave us here alone with the first years?" One of the residents pipes up. "We're looking at mass casualties, and I'm not talking about the patients." This brings about laughter from his peers, and a nod of acknowledgement from Caputo.

"Fine. I guess it'll help fill up the place, so first years have to go too."

Bursett, the HR demon standing beside him, starts scribbling something on her notepad. Probably adding the interns to Caputo's victim list. A list I have no intention of being on. Tomorrow's when I give my presentation. I don't need any other distractions messing with my head.

A few pagers go off and the small crowd shifts around me. Polly's one of the doctors hurriedly making their way toward the elevators on the right.

"Mendez! Where're you going?" The chief calls from his bird's eye view, and the head of Plastics stops in his tracks. "I see Obstetrics on the run, of which you have no part."

"Sir, I was just-"

"Pretending you've been paged to get away from me?"

Light laughter starts up again, and this time I join. Mendez is such a prick. Who wouldn't enjoy him being raked over the coals a little?

"Fine, I'm almost done with you people. One last thing… it's a black tie event. For the love of god, don't embarrass me and the name of this hospital. Wear something nice. Ladies, put on a little make up. Bailey! Borrow a tux. Preferably one that fits."

"I have a tux. Who says I don't have a tux?"

"You're wearing Velcro tie sneakers. You don't have a tux."

It's with these words that Caputo dismisses everyone and by the time his back turns to head to his office, I'm already halfway up the stairs to meet him there.

"Sir… Mr. Caputo sir…"

"What is it, Chapman?"

"The presentation for my clinical trial is tomorrow."

"I know you'll do us proud," he says and tries to duck into his office. I quickly body block him.

"And that's why I can't attend the gala."

"Is that right?"

"Yes, sir, you know how hard I've been working on this, and how stressful it's-"

"What time is it? Your presentation…"

"Uh, nine."

"PM?"

He knows it's not. He just wants to prove a point. "No sir."

"Good! Then you'll have about ten hours to get ready for the benefit. With all the stress behind you."

"Sir-"

"Mandatory, Chapman. Know what that means? You look nice in a dress. Wear a dress. Something yellow. Yellow says you're friendly and warm. Some of the benefactors you want money from, they're gonna be there too. You in a nice dress might help to sway the undecideds."

"Excuse me?"

"I'm just saying. They would've seen you in the morning, and then they'll see you again at the benefit in a less… stick up the ass kind of way. Rub elbows, schmooze, get your check. That's what I would do."

"You'd use your sexuality as currency?"

"Bah, you know I don't like this gender issues equality crap. You're not getting out of this by making it about something it's not. Trying to confuse me or whatever. Get outta here," he says with a wave of his hand.

I stare at his closed office door for a few seconds before finally deciding against round two. It's likely I'll come off the loser again. Great. So much for getting myself scratched from the victim list.

My feet take me through the trenches and the haze in my head makes sure I don't register anything or anyone on the way. The icy cold hits me full on the second I step outside, making my breath catch. I force it out, and pull it back hard and deep until it burns in my chest.

"What's up, Doc?" It's Nicky, and she says it in a really bad impression of Bugs Bunny.

My response is a tired sigh. Not the most polite, but I'm in no mood. How is she always here?

"Curb the enthusiasm, wouldya? My ego can only take so much stroking before I spontaneously combust. My vag on the other hand…"

"Please, not now."

"You on a special frequency or something? Because I didn't hear any calls coming through." She changes the subject. Well, if she's not going to go away, at least she can be normal. I can deal with that.

"No, there's no call. I just… Your friend is by far, the most complicated person I know."

"Who Alex? You're tap dancing on the tip of the iceberg with her."

"After today, I'm inclined to believe that."

"Why? What happened today?"

"I… did something. To help her."

"Shit."

"And for a while it seemed like it was a good thing. But then, all of a sudden… it wasn't."

"Ah don't beat yourself up, Doc. Luckily this is work, and you're not here to get everyone to like you. What do you people call 'em? Grunts? So she's that. And you're you. You don't need to like each other to get through a day's work. Unless…"

"Unless what?"

"Unless you kinda want her to like you…"

Alex is Alex, and I'm me, and we don't have to like each other? How much does that suck though. No. That's not what I want it to be. Shit.

"Got any more of that gum?"

"I think you better take the pack," she says as she hands it to me with a wink.

When I go back inside, the energy's different. I wasn't gone for that long but… something's different. I stand in the middle of the trenches, watching patients get stitched up, bandaged… It's quiet. I don't like it. And then like a rush, it hits me

Polly

I race to the elevator, the same one she ran to when she was paged earlier. I was too distracted by the stupid comments from the residents and then trying to get out of the stupid gala to think more of it, but now that I'm thinking, I see her face when she was standing here pushing this very button. I know Polly. I know that face.

That bad feeling I had this morning standing across the street from the hospital, that feeling that something was going to happen because it was just too damn quiet… That feeling sinks to the pit of my stomach the second I step onto the NICU floor and see Five standing with Daya at the nurse's desk. They're about ten feet away, but I don't move another inch. Their faces, the way they're looking straight ahead, through the huge glass window of the nursery, makes me not want to get closer. The fact that Five isn't in there, means she was asked to leave. The fact that Daya looks like she's about chew her fingernails off, means whatever Five couldn't stick around for, it isn't good.

It's still quiet. Deathly quiet. Monitors would've been turned off so they could concentrate. But I know if I were to walk over there, to stand at that door, it would be the opposite of stillness. Hands would be flurrying, voices would be commanding the situation in hushed but urgent tones, if there was still something to be urgent about that is… I've seen it all too often. I don't need to see it again. Thank god Alex is in surgery right now. Thank god she-

"Doctor Chapman, are you okay?" Daya's standing in front of me all of a sudden. I must have gone off into my head, because I didn't even see her approaching.

"I'm fine. The baby?" She doesn't say anything. She doesn't need to. Her eyes are practically screaming the answer at me.

"They're in there trying, but-" The rest of her words get lost in the sound of a gut-wrenching wail that cuts through me.

I could spend the rest of my life in this place, and lose patients while I do, and never grow immune to the sound of a heart breaking.

"Brook." The name is called like an order, and Five's feet move quickly to obey as she hurries in the direction of Polly's voice that came out to get her.

She has the unenviable task of being with the mother while they finish up.

A lump starts up in the back of my throat, but I fight it down to wear it came from. I'm not going back there, back to when I was one of them. I worked too damn hard to get it right. The insides of my palms start to ache, and I only then do I realize I've been standing here with balled fists the whole time, my nails digging in to my skin.

"You see Alex?" My eyes fight to switch from focusing on further down the hall, to Daya right in front of me.

"She's in surgery." My voice croaks under the strain of keeping it even. Just a few more seconds, and I'll be okay again. I just need a few more seconds.

Her brow furrows in confusion, in a way that interrupts my trying to be okay. "No she isn't. She was just here."

My heart drops and joins that sickly feeling in the pit of my stomach. "Wh- what do you mean? She's with Wash. She told me she has- No. Alex is in surgery."

Daya shakes her head, slowly again, her eyes don't leave mine. And I'm searching them, searching them for the words she's not saying. Words that go something like I'm just messing with you, Alex is in surgery, she wasn't here for this whole thing. But there's nothing. Nothing but deep-seated concern.

"She was just here," Daya echoes her last words.

Fuck.

Stairwell wins the toss over elevator as I make my way down to the ground floor. I want to get there fast, but I don't want to get there at all, and I need to work off this skin-crawling, bile-tasting freak out before I get to her. I take the stairs in leaps, bounding down two at a time, and don't stop. Not even when breathing hurts and the muscles in my calves protest. Not even then.

By the time I get to the intern locker room I'm out of breath and sweating. And staring at the closed door like a bumbling idiot. What the hell am I going to find in here? What the hell am I going to say to the thing that I find? For the second time today, I push open the door with more care than is necessary. Racing heart, dry mouth…

She's at her locker. Scrubs are gone. Blue jeans, white shirt. Packing her bag, getting ready to head home. She seems fine. Alex is fine. Alex is talking. To herself? She lightly closes the door to her locker. No. Not talking to herself. She's talking to the nurse who's been standing there this whole time, but who I didn't see because the locker door kept her out of sight. The nurse who has a thing for her. The nurse who's being there for her after a rough day. A rough day that I kind of had a hand in.

I drop my eyes to the floor. I'd rather look at dirt and scuff marks than what's happening in front of me. I have to get out of here. I start shuffling back the way I came, careful not to attract attention. I just needed to check on her, make sure she was okay. But she has someone. She doesn't need me. I don't need to be here. Alex is fine. I glance up one last time, just to make sure, and she does it again. Steals the air right out of my lungs.

Her eyes… I don't know how they found me, but they've become these things that you can't look directly into or you'd die. I'm looking right at her, and I'm dying.

She whispers something to the nurse that makes her look at me too. She gives a little nod and then moves quietly around Alex, taking care to brush her shoulder reassuringly, before making her way toward me. But not toward me, because she's leaving. She's making her way out. Alex asked her to leave. She picked me…

I push the door gently until the soft click signals it's closed and then stand there. Alex opens her locker and starts unpacking the bag she just finished packing. A few seconds or a whole year goes by, I can't be sure, and then

"You don't have to babysit my feelings or whatever. I'm not gonna have a mental break and make you look bad to your boss." She says it without looking away from the bag she's unpacking. Her movements are becoming more and more aggressive as she shoves random items of clothing and whatever into her locker.

"That's not why I'm here." I sound like a child.

"Forgive me for being a little skeptical." She spares me a quick glance before turning back to the all-important task of now taking back the things she just unpacked, and shoving them back into her backpack.

"What are you doing? Why are you packing and unpa-"

"Because!" She whirls around. And now she's glaring at me. "I just need to pack and unpack a bag right now. Is that okay with you? Do I need to fill out a form with HR?"

I shake my head. "No." She goes back to packing… "I mean yes, it's okay. No, there's no form. At least I don't think…" God I'm horrible at this.

She slams her locker shut, making me jump. The sound reverberates through the empty air. All I can do is stand here and watch her.

"Alex…"

"Don't."

"Okay." It comes out as a whisper. I'm tip-toeing like I've never tip-toed before, but somehow it still feels all wrong.

The bag drops to the floor with a dull thud and Alex drops to the bench just behind her. Her shoulders drop, along with her head as she rest her elbows on her knees. She stays like that—silent and hunched over. I wait for her to say something, but she doesn't. She doesn't want to talk about it. But we're here, and a thing just happened, and I'm supposed to help.

"So… I'm re-working my speech…"

A sickly laugh—like acid—comes out of her throat then, and she looks up at me. "Your speech? Are you fucking kidding me?"

"I just thought, since-"

"You're telling me about your speech? He was two days old, Pipes!"

"Yes! I know!" I raise my voice too. It's like her energy is filling this room and I can't help but absorb it. Feel everything she's feeling. It gives me the kick I need and I walk over to her. I throw my leg over the bench, straddling it as I sit down next to her. Not too close though. Never too close. "They're always two days old, Alex. Or nine hundred days. Or eight thousand two hundred and sixty-four. Somebody's wife and father and sister… but you can't… you'll go crazy." I watch as she just shakes her head, eyes closed to my words. I wonder if her ears are also closed off. "Eventually you'll need a bigger bag… with more stuff."

And thank god she laughs. Despite herself. It's barely there, but I caught it. So she's not closed off.

"It's not okay," she says softly, her voice thick and heavy with emotion, but at least the anger isn't there anymore. She mostly sounds tired.

"No, no it's not. But we have to be careful not to get stuck in it. Not to let it define us, or hold us back. Because there's always going to be another life that needs saving. Another life that we're responsible for. And we owe it to each of our patients to make sure what we give them, is everything. If we lose parts of ourselves along the way, then we're cheating them."

"Everything isn't always enough." She's sitting up now, her fingers digging into the fabric of her jeans, her eyes studying the lockers in front of her. I'm studying her. Every single thing she's feeling is on her face. I can't look away. "I wanna be mad at someone. At whatever god is calling the shots in this shit hole, at Fig, Harper, you…" She looks at me. I stop breathing. "Because maybe if I'd been there, instead of running around this place on bedpan duty… at least when I was with him he was holding."

"Alex-"

"I know, I know. The truth is, I can't be mad at anyone. It's all random. We do everything, but it's still not enough."

"Because it's not our call. Science, science is the god calling the shots in this shit hole. Science has the last say."

"So what's your advice? Turn off, shut down, see numbers instead of people, so that it doesn't make you crazy?"

"There's that, but also repression. And alcohol helps."

"Repression huh? That sounds good right about now." There's a hint of a smile in her tired tone, and the atmosphere around us is easier. Still weighed down, but not hopeless.

"Most surgeons have a process. It usually involves a couple of hours at Boo's."

"What's yours?"

I swear she wasn't this close to me when I sat down. I made sure of not getting too close… How is it that I can smell her then? How is her breath touching my face?

"I prefer being alone. Although, the last time I lost a patient, I ended up across the street too."

"And not alone." No, she definitely moved. The gap that was there when I sat down, is non-existent.

"No, not alone." I clear my throat because my words are sticking to it, making it sound all scratchy when I talk.

"Maybe that's my process I guess. If I think about what I did when I lost a patient out there, working Emergency…"

Her process. I'm a part of her process. The idea that I'm nothing more than a blip on a broad scope of nobodies she's used to make herself feel better causes a twinge in my stomach.

"Well then, maybe you should've taken your girlfriend's offer instead of sending her away."

"Who says I sent her away?" she snaps back without missing a beat. She has that glint in her eyes, that playful smirk on her lips.

"What?"

"Who says she's not waiting for me outside?"

"Oh."

"And how do you even know there was an offer?"

"Just a guess."

"Right."

"So is she? Waiting, I mean."

"No, because she's not my girlfriend. Not my type."

Breathing comes easy after she says that. Sure, I was only teasing about the whole girlfriend thing, but when she teased back… yeah that wasn't fun.

"In situations like this, there's no such thing as a type."

"Oh there's a type," she says and her eyes. fucking. bury me.

My hands are holding onto the cold wood of the bench, the small bit that's open between the two of us, and I clamp my grip on it until it hurts. Rather that than lift them up and have them do something crazy. Like touch her.

"Well you're not out there anymore. You're in here now. So maybe it's a good time for you to get a new process."

"Or a new type," she says with a shrug.

"Times are hard, but let's not panic."

"Oh really?"

And the moment is so light between us, so… normal. It's like I'm getting a glimpse of what it'll be like to actually be friends with her.

"Thank you," she says.

And I don't know how it happened, or when, but she's got my hand in hers, and she's running her thumb along the length of mine, her mind a million years away. Mine's not that far as I get lost in the feel of it. Almost a week away to be exact.

"What for?"

"Looking out for me. Sorry for being an ass about it. I know you were just trying to help. And for this, coming here and I don't know… talking."

"You know, studies show that holding hands reduces stress in the human body." Thank you brain, I can always count on you to be completely useless when it matters the most.

"What?" She looks at me with amused confusion. I don't blame her.

"Hugging too. Something about the contact…"

"So you wanna hug me now?"

"No I was just- I'm rambling. Ignore me. It's a- a thing I do when I'm nervous."

"What are you nervous about?"

Shit. Fuckity fuckcrap. "Nothing. I don't know. You're holding my hand."

"Sorry." She gives me my hand back, placing it softly on my thigh before withdrawing from me completely.

Me and my big mouth. I don't like that she's moved away.

"I mean okay."

"Okay?"

"Yes, okay. I just have to get changed real quick. But then, I mean, we could- You don't have to be alone tonight."

"Piper I'm not propositioning you." And she starts laughing just in case I don't believe her. "I'm not saying it's easy. Sitting here and not doing the thing I really, really wanna do, but…" Her smile fades but lingers in her eyes, softening her face to an almost ethereal quality. "This is good, right? Us talking like normal people. No crazy shit?"

"It's good. But what is it that you really, really wanna do to me?"

"Don't do that. That's not fair."

"Okay, sorry."

"This is good. So… maybe we should just, not do the thing that took us to that crazy place. Just be… platonic friends," she ends with a chuckle.

"Deal," I say, and hold my hand out to her.

"No."

"It can't be a deal without a handshake. That's the rule."

"I'm not doing it. I can't. Go away." She puts her hands on both my thighs and pushes, making me slide along the bench. Away from her. "There. That's better. That's platonic."

"Are you-? The handshake is the deal sealer."

"Says who?"

"Says the deal masters of ancient times. We can't go about this all willy nilly. Take my hand."

"No. Piper-"

"Take it."

"I swear to god…"

"You think that if you touch me you're going to turn into this person who can't help herself? That you're going to be so overcome with this- this insatiable fucklust that you're just going to pin me to the wall and-"

"Yes. That's exactly what'll happen." There's no amusement in her voice when she says it. In fact, Alex is dead serious.

"Fine." I close my hand into a fist, still extended. "Fistbump then."

Her shoulders shake with the laugh she tries to suppress, but she gives in eventually and touches her fist to mine.

"There. We're friends now."

"Platonic friends, you mean."

"Right."

"Okay, I'm gonna go. I miss my bed. I probably won't be getting much sleep, but…"

"It gets easier." She looks at me with a cynical quirk of the brow. "Not this part. This part… it's always rough. But after, the part where you close it up and put it away. That bit gets easy."

"Repression."

"You're learning."

She makes a swipe for the discarded backpack as she gets up, slinging it over her shoulder. "One for the road." She holds her fist out to me and I tap it dutifully with my own. "See you around, Pipes," she says, and five seconds later my Before with Alex Vause is over.

Now I get to look forward to what comes After.

* * *

AN: I know it's been forever, and after I promised to update more often. But I hope this chapter makes up for it, and the fact that the next one is halfway finished:)

Thanks to everyone for sharing the love on this story so far with reviews, follows and favs. You're all so awesome. Reading all your comments make my day, and the suggestions too. Some of them have already been worked into the story so you can look out for that in coming chapters;)


	6. Chapter 6

Author's Note: A huge thank you to all who's reviewed the last chapter. You guys are amazing. It's always so great to hear from you, and to think this little two-shot wannabe is being enjoyed by so many:) This is one of a two-parter - I split the chapter because I felt maybe 15k is too long - and it has been my favorite to write so far. Hope you guys like it too:):):)

On a technical aside: Line breaks represent a switch in POV, but I've included scene breaks with these /. That just shows that there's a break in a scene, but we're still with the same POV. So we start with Piper, and when there's a line, we're switching to Alex. But when we're with Piper and we see this / we're still with Piper, just in a different scene. Ugh, let me know if this system sucks and I'll try to figure something out.

* * *

"Rub elbows, he said. Schmooze, he said." I take the only open space at the ad hoc bar, sandwiched between a fourth year resident and someone I don't know.

"Excuse me?" the resident asks.

"Does it look like I was talking to you?"

I get the predictable nervous stutter, eyes to the floor, "Sorry," he mumbles, and walks off.

Honestly, I'm so over this mandatory benefit bullshit I could cry. Not only did I have to make the effort to look nice, but I got caught in a cloud burst on my way over, ruining whatever work I'd put in. I'm damp, bored, cranky, and being reminded at every turn how much of a people's person I am not.

"Social butterfly gig getting you down, I take it." Alex sidles up beside me, looking like she's not even trying to slay that dress.

"Have you met me?"

"Here," she says with a soft chuckle and slides a glass across the smooth plastic. Fake drinks on a fake bar. "Take the edge off."

"I can't see how that'll work seeing all the drinks here are non-alcoholic."

"Thanks for the warning," she says with a grimace, and turns her attention to a plate of hors d'ouvres to her left. "Please tell me this is real bacon." She points to one of the bite-sized treats. "I don't think I can handle two major life disappointments in one night."

"It's real," I say, happy I don't have to disappoint her again. Happy she finally got here. Relieved she doesn't seem to think anything of my timed appearance at the bar just as she took up her spot.

"Thank god." She pops the tiny snack into her perfect mouth.

"You might want to hold off on that gratitude. It's nothing more than over-processed budget-cut catering. But I guess it goes with the dollar store décor and cheap drinks, so there's that."

"Wow."

"I know. This place has turned me into my mother. But it's only a testament to how bad it is."

"So bad it brings out your mom voice?"

"And morphing into Carol Chapman is just salt in the gaping, necrotic wound."

"Here I was thinking my day was rough." She takes a sip of the abandoned drink she first offered.

Another face gets pulled, but I can't stop to think about how adorable it is, because I'm too busy thinking about her day and why it was rough.

"Shit."

"Please don't. I didn't say that to make you feel-"

"I would've checked in, but-"

"I don't need you checking up on me. Seriously, it's okay."

"Between my presentation, and surgeries, and-"

"Piper-"

"I was just- Caputo's really putting pressure on me to make an impression here tonight and actually I think I'm putting pressure on myself too, because if I don't get this-"

"Piper," she says more sternly, and gets me to stop.

"Sorry." I apologize for rambling. "I'm sorry." I apologize for being an ass of a mentor, not checking on my intern the day after she lost her first patient.

She stands silent, twirling the stem of her glass between her fingers.

"How are you?"I know this isn't what she wants to talk about, but now that it's hanging between us like this, what else am I supposed to do?

She tosses back the glass, emptying it. "Well, I'm kinda bummed by the beverage standard."

"Alex…"

"I'm fine, okay? Everything's fine. Today was… fine," she finishes with a heavy sigh. Still not looking at me.

"That's a lot of fine."

"Yeah well… "

"It gets easier."

"So you keep saying. And anyway, I'm fine."

"So _you_ keep saying."

"I guess we're both full of it then," she says with a smile.

"I guess." I feel my face do the same without me telling it to. It's so easy with her.

"How's the sealing of the deal coming along?" she asks, going for her second budget bacon snack, and I'm grateful for the change of subject.

"Well, there's a downside to cutting yourself off emotionally in this job. After years of steering clear of people and all the mess they come with, you forget how to human. Nobody likes you. Sealing a deal? Virtually impossible."

"Fuck 'em." And the way she says it, like she means it, takes me by surprise. This whole day I've been sick to my stomach about how I was going to pull off this soirée, and in two words Alex makes it better. "Your speech go off okay?" I nod. It's all I can manage right now. Too busy trying to figure out who the hell she is and how the hell she does this… "Well then that's all that matters. The science, right?" I nod again. "Screw all this buttering up bullshit. Your work is solid. They'll see that, and you'll get your grant. So screw it, you know?"

"Yeah, screw it." I lift a glass of ass juice from a passing tray and take a huge sip. It's not the first I've had this evening, but it tastes different.

Because I feel different. My mother's not in my head anymore, judging everything including me. Now it's just Piper, and she's got it in her head that maybe things aren't so bad.

"And besides," Alex turns to face me, and is looking at me—really looking at me—for the first time since we started this whatever this is… "it's worked for you. The whole clinical surgeon machine thing. You're a neurogod or whatever. And you're not totally unlikable, I mean… I like you."

"You do?"

"Shut up," she says with a laugh and a light push to my shoulder.

What does it mean when someone who's going through their own kind of chaos still finds it in them to make you smile?

"Piper?"I turn to the voice that suddenly spoke up behind me. The face it belongs to is smiling stupidly down at me. "Either you changed your mind about these things, or the Chief forced you to come. And we both know you never change your mind about anything…"

"Wh- what are you- what are you doing here? You're back? No, if you left Hopkins it would've been in the newsletter. So that means you're on the board now? How? I didn't see you when I came in. And how do I not know you're on the board? It's because I've been distracted with work and- and… other things."

"Do you need me here for this conversation, or…" he says, still wearing that smile. All boyish charm and sparkly teeth. "Why don't we try this again? Hi Piper."

"Hi Larry," I mumble, all too aware of the new sandwich I'm in. Alex and Larry—what a combination.

"Sorry to interrupt, I just had to come over to make sure you weren't a hologram or something." And then he spots Alex. "I've been away for a while, so I don't know all the faces, sorry." He holds out his hand politely.

"This is Doctor Vause," I jump in just as she opens her mouth to respond. "Alex, this is- this is Doctor Bloom. Head of neuro at Hopkins."

They shake hands. I can't look. "Used to be head of neuro at your current playground. And Piper's mentor."

"Oh?"She's predictably surprised.

"Yup, I made her the surgeon she is. So what's your specialty?"

"Trauma." I'm her official mouthpiece as I answer for her again. "And he didn't make me. My hard work made me. Alex is amazing in the ER." I'm flipping between them like a ping pong ball and it's making my head spin.

"Awesome," he says, impressed.

"Uh actually, I haven't settled on one yet. Figured I'll get to it when the time comes."

People should be puppets and have those strings so we can control the things they do and say because honestly…

"When the time comes?" Larry asks, confused. Confused because I tried to create the impression that Alex was a seasoned surgeon.

"Yeah, it's only my first year, so..."

Because-

"An intern?" he asks with a demeaning snigger.

Because-

"The Great Piper Chapman conversing with an intern? Wow, maybe you _have_ changed."

Because this. I barely manage the eye-roll I give him, and even though I'm making a point of not looking at Alex, I can feel her eyes on me. Probably judging me. I can't blame her. _I'm_ judging me right now.

"No, she hasn't changed," Alex says. My turn to be surprised and confused. "This was just a… crossing of paths due to mutual thirst. Please excuse me," she says gracefully.

I watch as she weaves her way through formally dressed bodies on the floor, already dreading the unavoidable clean-up waiting for me.

"So what's news?" he asks, as if he didn't just insult the only person who's been friendly to me all evening, and make me out to look like a complete asshole in one fell swoop. "Besides being distracted with work and other things. You've got your trial, right?"

"I don't have it yet. Pitched this morning."

"Great, great. I could make a few calls if you want?"

"That's not necessary."

"Always so stubborn. Or independent. That's what you called it, right?"

"You're bringing that up now?"

"I'm just saying."

"What are you doing here?" My surprise at his presence has officially become irritation.

Because I was just starting to think this night might be salvageable. I was just starting to loosen up. Now I'm standing here, getting my guard back up when god knows I'm so ready to just forget the thing altogether.

"Same as you. I just secured funding for my research, and I'm here to… demonstrate my undying gratitude or whatever."

"Your research? They're funding _you_?" My heart sinks to my stomach. I'm wearing heels. I put on make-up for god's sake.

"Relax, Piper, I'm sure there's enough of the pie to go around."

"And this is official?" I ask around the sour taste in my mouth.

"Got the nod a few days ago," he says with smug grin. "See Chapman? If you had stuck with me, it would've been your name on the paper that's going to make history."

"Under your name."

"What?"

"My name, but under yours. No thanks."

"It would've been next to mine. I told you that we-"

"Yes, Larry, you told me a lot of things." I can't do it anymore. The face I wear to make him comfortable, it's starting to hurt.

"Look, I never once implied that you'd be second to me, personally or professionally. I was the one who encouraged you to-"

"Sure you encouraged, and you pushed, and you mentored. But if I had left with you, after a while, all of those things we talked about not happening? They would've happened. I would've become your wife, the mother to your kids, who _used_ to be a surgeon. And it wouldn't have been anyone's fault, because that's just how things go. And even though I would have no reason to blame you, I would have. I would've resented you for the life I was living, and it would've killed me. Us." Jesus, three years of pent up shit summarized in one breath.

"You can't know that for sure."

It's clear my forthrightness has him shaken. It's a horrible thing to watch, but it feels good to know that after so many years I still have an effect.

"The possibility is enough to make me okay with my decision. I have no regrets. Do you?"

"Every day," he replies solemnly.

"I have to go," is my dismissal to whatever he's thinking or feeling, and just the entirety of Larry Bloom altogether. For the first time tonight, being a machine has counted in my favor.

* * *

The bad lighting in this place makes it easy for me to find a corner dark enough for me to wait out my allotted rotation. It's like I can breathe normally for the first time once I slip inside the shadowy space. I need to get out of here, out of this dress, and maybe into a distraction. I wasn't happy about this mandatory arrangement, but when I saw Piper at the bar I thought maybe, just maybe this night wouldn't have to be so bad. Let's just add that to the list of things I've been wrong about lately.

Mentor my ass. Tension like that doesn't just happen. The fact that he's a total dickhead just makes it worse. A part of me feels sorry for him though. It's so obvious he's from out of town because she left him no choice. You don't need a top neurosurgeon to hang onto when you're a top neurosurgeon yourself. And you definitely don't need him hanging around your territory. So cutthroat, and so Piper it turns out.

I scan the faces around me. Slim pickings. And what am I even thinking? If I do anything with anyone here it'll be the talk of Litchfield in a second. I catch on a familiar face that shouldn't be familiar. Not here.

"Georgie?" Of all the benefit galas in all the world…

George Mendez, a blast from the past, whose hobbies were underage drinking, underage banging, and excessive ball-scratching. So naturally, he was like a brother to me.

I see him looking around, trying to find where his name came from.

"Holy shit, Stretch? Aren't you a little overdressed for a waiting gig?"

I step out of hiding to meet him halfway. "Screw you. What are you doing here?" There's something about the comfort of home that relaxes me automatically.

"You first," he says, his eyes twinkling with a surprised smile.

"Just started the surgical program at Litch Gen."

"No way. I heard the rumors of a hot new intern, but figured they were talking about the Asian one."

"Of course you did. And what do you mean you heard rumors?"

"Small world huh? I'm doing time at the Litch too."

"That's weird, I thought I'd met the whole janitorial team."

"All these years and you still think you're funny. Crying shame. I'm Plastics, fuck you very much."

"You actually managed to con your way through med school? What the fuck?"

"Couple of blowies here and there, nothing too stressful."

"Right, typical."

"So uh, you still, you know…" He mimics swinging a baseball bat, only I know it's actually a softball bat he means.

"You'd be the first to know when that changes."

"I better be. We made a deal, remember?"

"How could I forget?"

"Wow, little Stretch all growed up. Good job on that by the way."

"Shut up. And quit staring at my rack, you perv."

"Speaking of your rack…" He makes a groping motion in front of my chest and I slap his hands away. "When did this happen?"

"Fuck off, Mendez."

"Last time I saw you, you were this scrappy little teenager trying to come to grips with her overly long limbs. Smokin' hot and no idea she was killing everyone who laid eyes on her."

"Yeah well, that girl doesn't exist anymore."

"I'm not buying it. After all these years… you _still_ have no idea do you?"

"And you're still trying to get in my pants."

"Never say die," he says with a laugh. "You see home much?"

"Not as much as I'd like to. Mom calls a couple of times a week. Get this, there's a Wendy's where your house used to be."

"What? Fuck those assholes. I had my first kiss in that house. Lost the big V there."

"Spare me."

"How is she? Your mom…"

"Pretty much the same as you left her."

"Good old Diane. I should look her up, let her get to know the man I've become." He waggles his eyebrows suggestively.

"I'm too sober for this." He's the worst, but I can't help laughing. I feel like this is the thing that's going to save this night for me. I'm already playing the phone conversation with my mom when I tell her who I ran into.

"You should try a different sport for a change. I could coach you."

"Trust me, you wouldn't survive it."

"I'll go down trying. I'll go down for hours…"

"Good to see you're still the same asshole I knew years ago."

"Hey, if it ain't broke."

"And how's that working out for you?"

"I'm like God's nectar to the over-eager bees at home base. Litchfield can't get enough of me. I'm surprised you haven't heard."

"Oh so _you're_ the Mendez psych patients have been complaining about. You need to grow some dignity."

"I will if you take me up on my offer from a decade ago. Grab a drink with me tomorrow when you get off. Let me get you off…"

"You're so gross."

"Hate the game, Stretch, hate the game."

"Please don't call me that," I say, painfully aware of my words that echo what Piper's been telling me for days.

"Leave my interns alone, George."

Speak of the devil.

Mendez steps aside to reveal Piper, who's apparently finished playing catch up with her ex. She looks pissed off and I'm ready to bet my left leg it's not about George Mendez. So it couldn't have been such a happy reunion then…

"Oh, he wasn't-"

"It's okay," Mendez interrupts me. "I'm used to it. Chapman always gets jealous when I pay attention to the other girls."

"You wish," she says.

But her emphasized play at indignation only makes him laugh. "Doctor Chapman here wants to be the only one who gets her pigtails pulled. Am I right?"

"You need to up your medication."

"And what do you mean _your_ interns? Since when are they- holy shit, the Chief put _you_ in charge? Ah man, my deepest sympathy, Stretch."

Piper silently mouths the word scrap and looks at me questioningly.

"She's not so bad." I'm supposed to be pissed off at her, but I defend her anyway.

"Give her time," he says.

"Go away, George." Piper looks the way she sounds—like she's not even kidding.

"I'm trying to catch up with an old friend, if you don't mind. We're in the middle of something, actually."

"Not anymore. Go."

He looks from Piper to me, and it's clear he wants me to back him up. Tell her I don't want him to get lost. But I'm curious. She was so obviously avoiding me the whole time I've been here and after that little remark from Doctor Dickhead, I figured things would just go back to that. The fact that she came to find me has piqued my interest. So as much fun as this is, I just can't.

"Fine." He finally gets the picture and gives in. "But you come to me if she gives you a hard time."

"You're still talking…" Piper says, and the look on her face has me holding back a laugh. She's so adorable when she's trying to be tough.

"I'm watching you, Chapman. One wrong move and there'll be discipline."

"Shaking in my boots. Now move along."

"It'll probably involve restraints. Although, something tells me you'd like that kinda thing."

I don't miss the glance she throws at me, or how quickly she takes it back. Or the way she bites down on her bottom lip. I know what she's thinking. I know where her mind just went to, because mine went there too.

"And on that note," Mendez is still going, "I'll take my leave. Be good," he says and flashes me a wink before leaving.

Even in the low lighting, I notice the flush that's crept onto Piper's cheeks. Suddenly I'm feeling a little hot under the collar too.

"You should stay away from him," she says, fixing her hair that doesn't need fixing.

"Who, Mendez? He's harmless." She nods, looking everywhere but not straight at me. There's something she wants to say and she's trying to get the balls to say it. "I told you before, I don't need you babysitting me."

"Not babysitting," she mutters.

"Okay, so then what did you come over here for?"

"I wanted to apologize." She looks at me now. "For what happened back there."

"It's not your dick move to apologize for."

"Larry's a nice guy."

"Nice? Ugh… the day my lover describes me as nice-"

"Lover?"

"That's the day I end it all. Find the closest bridge and jump off. Goodbye sweet world."

"He's not my lover."

"I don't ever wanna be something so profoundly mundane as nice. Especially to the person whose world I'm meant to be rocking."

"It was a long time ago."

"Did he rock it for you?" I fix on her eyes. Make it so she can't look away. She doesn't.

"Look, it's hard enough being here with the space filled up by someone I have a complicated history with. Can we please not do this?"

"A room full of people and there's only one ex? That's good going Chapman." I don't know why, but I'm not interested in letting her off the hook just yet. There's too much fun in watching her squirm.

"Well technically, it's two."

Ooph, blondie fires back and hits me right in the gut. Guess she eventually found the balls she was looking for. But she doesn't know she's playing with a pro…

"Who me?"

"Well…"

"I wouldn't be so quick to put me in the History category just yet."

"Yeah? Why's that?" she asks, acting all blasé about it, but I know better.

I step forward to close the space between us, the bold move made easier by the fact that we're all alone in this forgotten corner of the room. The music from the live band swells up around us, creating a kind of impenetrable bubble, along with several backs of people not caring about what could or could not be happening. Her eyes flicker to my mouth, and that's when I know I've got her.

"Because I'm far from done with you, Pipes."

The hard swallow she tries to hide is betrayed by her bare, slender neck.

"Alex…" A flat hand touches against my middle, creating a soft and warm line that she doesn't want crossed.

But there's a hint of a smile in her eyes telling me something else. Instead of Not At All, it's more like Not Here, Not Yet. And suddenly I don't even know if I want this to be just a game anymore.

The lame ass music gets a new string of melody added to it as a wave of beeps start to fill the charged space around us. Suits start going for their waistbands, skirts are grabbing at their clutches. I look back to Piper and she's doing the same. I realize I don't have my pager on me, and start to feel the worst case of left-outness I've felt in a while. I must've forgotten it in my locker when I was changing. Rookie move.

Audio feedback slices through my head because the secluded corner we're in is also the home to one of the huge ass speakers supplying the band. Turning to the stage, fingers in both my ears, I see the Chief tapping on the microphone.

"Sorry folks," he starts and then clears his throat. "Is this thing on?" The way you're blaring through my head right now, Chief, I'd say yes. "Okay, listen up… there's been an incident. With this weather, we should've known we'd be in for it. But I just got off the phone with the chief of surgery at Mercy West. They've suffered some damage due to the excessive rain, and with the renovations of their new wing, they don't have the resources to service their area." Questioning grumbles roll through the crowd. I look at Piper, but her eyes are on the Chief. "They've shut down their ER and all emergency cases will be coming to Litchfield." This makes the grumbling grow in volume.

"That's insane," Piper says next to me. "We don't have the capacity."

"What's the incident?" A faceless voice carries over the general muttering.

It's obvious the Chief heard it, but it's also obvious he's not gonna have this talk now. "I need all my people to please get back. All hands on deck whether you're on call or not. This is serious."

Not a second later, people start filing out of the hall, probably glad to be put out of their misery, but all looking pretty grave about it. Because they're leaving one kind of hell for another.

Caputo's voice drones on as he thanks the board and extends apologies but I'm only half listening, because I'm shoulder-checking people to keep up with Piper, who's zigzagging her way to the exit with surprising agility.

/

Sheets of rain blast my face when I finally make it out of the hall. It's the kind of downpour that drives into you like a million tiny fists, hurting with every drop and then leaving you drenched just to add insult to injury.

Glasses off, shoes in hands, my bare feet slosh through icy puddles as I try to find a beautiful woman in a yellow evening dress.

"Piper!" I call out, swirling on the spot, trying to pick out a blurry face looking in my direction.

But all I see is an ocean of people making for the sidewalk, madly attempting to get a cab. All I hear is the storm growing with each passing second, even though my ears are burning with the strain they're under to pick up on anyone calling my name. Anyone isn't. So she just disappeared. Left without me. This is an emergency, so I shouldn't be wasting time feeling what, disappointed? She's one of the attendings. Of course she has to get there as fast as possible. People could be losing their lives in the time it takes her to hang around for an intern.

"Are you deaf?" Cold, wet fingers grip my wrist and starts dragging me toward the sidewalk. Wet fingers that belong to a beautiful woman in a yellow evening dress. "I got us a cab," she says, and yanks the door open.

I dive in after her, grateful for the temporary reprieve from the end of days, and okay fine just a little happy that I was wrong. She didn't leave without me. Not that I care.

The cabby starts off at a speed the second I close the door, and I can only think she must've gotten the cab, told him where she was headed, but then asked him to wait so she could find me. I'm soaked through and shivering but a warm feeling swells up in my chest.

"I just got off the phone with Cindy. Lines are pathetic, but she says a plane exploded before take-off." Limp blonde hair gets scooped up and molded into a sticky bun on top of her head.

"Shit."

"Ninety-six casualties, and all of them ours."

"What about Panorama? Can't they help?"

"Too far." She snaps a black hairband off her wrist—I hadn't even noticed it was there until now—and holds it out to me.

"Yeah, but we can send out an instruction to pick-ups on duty, have them take non-critical cases that way." I attempt to be all coolly casual with my updo, but my hair doesn't behave as well as Piper's. It's all tangled up in my fingers and sticking to my arms and I'm actually breaking a sweat right now.

"You're right," she says, looking at me for the first time, her face still glistening with the slick wetness of outside. "Make the call."

"What? Me?" I freeze up, my hands still stuck in my hair nest.

"Come here, turn around." She's so demanding and in control. That warm feeling in my chest starts spreading. "I'm going to call Panorama and brief them. They won't take a briefing from you. Besides, it's your people out there."

My hands fall free as Piper gets to work—her touch making the hair on the back of my neck stand up—and sets it on top of my head in two seconds flat. The skill of her hands goes beyond surgery it would seem.

But I guess I already knew that.

"Thanks," I mumble while digging my cellphone out of my purse. Piper's already on hers, talking in that controlled and commanding way that she has.

I speed dial 1 and hunker against the door, trying to create a space that doesn't involve Piper's voice giving tense instructions.

"Nick, I need your help," I say when my friend's voice grumbles onto the line.

* * *

Litchfield General runs like well-oiled machine at times like these. Say what you will about the leaders who work here, but it's because we're leaders that this hospital has the reputation it does. After fighting our way through a packed Emergency drop zone, I immediately see ad hoc triage stations set up to create an open plan care section. The chairs that usually make up the waiting area have been stacked up against one of the walls on the far side of the ER, making room for more triage stations if necessary. It looks like all hell has broken loose, but it also looks like we have a pretty good handle on it.

"Doctor Chapman," Cindy calls out, and I make my way toward her, my feet smacking the cold tiled floor. "There's some scrubs in Exam 2, but I figured-"

"This is fine," I say, as I pull on the gown she holds out for me. She shoves a pair of gloves into my chest, and I slap them on too.

My head's already buzzing. I've never liked Trauma. I'm not built for it. But cometh the time, cometh the surgeon…

If the place was cramped before, it's claustrophobic now, with doctors filling up every open space as the stragglers from the bullshit benefit arrive. I scan my immediate area for a case to jump into. God knows the system waits at a time like this. Get them in, get them stable, move on. That's what nurses are for anyway. They can deal with the paperwork nightmare when we've done our bit.

"Alex!" It's easy to pick out the wobbling black bun standing a head above most. I run over to her and see she's already kitted up, interlacing her fingers like I'd do to work on my gloves, but I recognize it for what it is—she's chomping at the bit to get into this Trauma Bonanza. "Look, all rules aside, we need you tonight so, you have my permission to get in this thing."

"I was planning on doing that anyways but yeah, thanks for the permission, Doc."

"Alex…"

"I got this, okay? Can we save some lives now?"

I can't help but return her smile. It's dazzling to see her like this. The Renegade in her element.

"Just, try not to be too… you about it."

"I'm not making any promises," she says with a grin, and I watch her head off across the room.

Voices are loud and echoing and ringing in my head. I can see into every single one of our triage bays, privacy curtains forgotten in the chaos. Blood, burns, tears… The entrance is stuffed with rolling stretchers, and a glance at the doors behind them—now fixed to stay open—shows even more people coming in. I let my feet carry me over, only to see Fig and Bennett had the same idea—clear the entrance for the EMTs to get in and out as fast as possible.

"Bag it," Fig is saying to one of the residents who's just walked up to a stretcher in front of her.

"But-"

"Look at my face," she says sharply, and I'm pretty sure I can see the poor resident shaking in her shoes. "You know what dead on arrival means? Put her in a bag, stick her in the fridge, and get the hell over yourself because trust me, there's a lot more of that coming tonight."

I feel a twinge of sympathy as I watch the resident obediently push the DOA clear of the entrance, and probably off to the morgue. There's a time and a place to be that harsh, and this isn't it. When I turn back to find a case that I can actually help with, I'm distracted by Bennett who gracelessly ushers a gurney over my bare foot. It's all I can do not to cry out with the stabbing pain that's snaking through my foot and wringing itself around my ankle.

"Fore!" he shouts with a laugh, as I jump out of his way to let him pass. Fucking ape.

"Put these on," Polly holds out a pair of shocking pink Crocs. "And then come with me. I need you."

I stumble into the ghastly footwear that's a size too big but better than nothing, and when I look up to find Alex, she's gone. But I'm not worried about her. If anyone knows her way around a state of emergency it would be her…

"There's no available OR," Polly says when I walk into Exam 2. And then she just stands there and looks at me.

She's waiting for me to say, okay no problem sure I'll totally operate here in a non-sterile environment without the proper resources. But I can't.

"We need to relieve intercranial pressure now or we lose her." She hands me a cranio drill, but it might as well be a chicken, because that's how foreign it feels.

"I can't."

"Yes you can, and you will."

I move to the head of the makeshift operating table. They've already shaved the patient's head. Okay, so this is how the night's going. I can totally deal with this. You don't get to be the best by remaining unchallenged and safe, Larry's words reach out to me from some place far away.

"Scalpel." Polly's voice breaks into the trance I was busy cocooning myself in.

I look up to see her rubbing up the patient's belly with Iodine.

"What? What are you doing?"

"I'm delivering this baby," she says matter-of-factly. "And you're about to save its mother." And with that, she digs in. No questions, no hesitations… She's here to save lives. It's about time I get here too.

"Can I get some more light over here please?" I ask, grabbing a Sharpie.

X marks the spot as I map the spots on the patient's head that I'm going to have to drill into.

/

Two hours and seventeen minutes. It's finally starting to quiet down out there, but there's still a lot to do. I'm shaking with hunger and tiredness as I swab the spots of blood from my cheek. It's the first moment I've had, and I've used it to get those scrubs Cindy told me about, my own shoes, and to try and get some of the blood off me that I've collected so far. I lean down and take a mouthful of water straight from the faucet, the cool liquid soothing my throat that feels raw from all the shouting I've been doing.

Bennett bursts into the exam room, making me spray water down the front of my fresh scrubs. "You're not gonna believe this," he says. He clearly hasn't taken any time to clean up, so right now John Bennett looks like he stepped out of The Texas Chainsaw Massacre: Extreme Medical Edition.

"Spit it out already, what are you talking about?"

"Highway collapsed."

"You're kidding me," I groan. Seriously? SERIOUSLY?

"All this rain, bad city planning… Mercy West's still shut down and we filled up Panorama, so guess what?"

"I need a drink."

"You and me both. Better get your ass out here first though."

 _Doctor Bennett,_ a voice comes out of nowhere, sounding like static. I only just notice John's been carrying a walkie. If the walkies are in circulation, it must mean things have reached critical status at Litchfield. That's the protocol anyway. And critical status means I'm a long way from the sleep I desperately need.

"I'm moving," he says into his walkie and vanishes from the doorway just as suddenly as he appaeared.

I move to follow him and I just step out of the exam room when

"Oh thank god, Doctor Chapman, you have to get over here!" It's Five, and she looks like another cast member from the movie John's in.

"What is it? What's going on?" My feet easily match her hurried steps. No, we're not stepping, we're sprinting across the ER toward one of the make-shift triage setups.

"Everyone else is busy and I don't know what to do she won't listen I tried telling her but she won't stop-"

We stop sprinting. We stop because we've reached the place Five's been dragging me too. I see Alex standing over a patient, paddles in hand.

"Oh my god, you went and told on me? How old are you?" she snarks at Five.

"This isn't right. Doctor Figueroa gave us strict instructions to-"

"Where did you get that?" I ask Alex, motioning at the portable defibrillator. It's definitely not one of ours.

"It's mine," a paramedic steps forward. "She grabbed it off my trolley and won't give it back. We just got called out and I'm standing here arguing with an intern. Who's in charge here?"

"You can't use that on him!" Five raises her voice at Alex.

"What do you suggest? I revive him with true love's kiss instead?" Alex raises her voice right back.

"We were told not to take extensive measures in cases that are too far gone. The nature of the situation-"

"Charging 200," Alex cuts over Five's rambling.

"Alex no." I don't raise my voice, I don't need to. Her hands freeze in mid-air over the patient's chest.

"Thank you!" Five says, dramatically relieved.

"Piper…" And for Alex to sound like she's pleading is a big deal. That's exactly what she sounds like. In her own unique way at least.

I push past the paramedic and the grunt. "Give them to me," I say, holding out my hands for the paddles.

"He's not gone," she says, barely above a whisper. Her eyes are wild, but I can see she's fighting damn hard to contain it. "He's not gone," she says again.

I take the paddles from her. Correction: I yank the paddles out of her vice-like grip. And the whole time I hold her eyes, trying to still the storm in there like I can't the one outside.

"Charge to 250."

It comes out in a strangled kind of gasp—her relief, her surprise, her whatever she's feeling once she realizes I'm agreeing with her, not stopping her. She turns and adjusts the dial on the machine.

"Clear," she says, and I catch the suck my dick look she throws at Five. I don't think I've been prouder of a student in my life.

"Clear." I administer the first shock.

"This is insane. You're not supposed to be doing this. And since when are you on a first name basis with the attendings? I have to find Doctor Figueroa."

I turn around in time to see Five disappear in the thick of people milling around the ER, but my interest in her doesn't last long. Let her find Fig. Let her find the Chief, for all I care. I'm in the business of saving lives. And no-one can fault me on that now.

"Charge to 300."

"Listen Doc, we're on a scary timer here. We lost two trucks in the landslide and if I don't report-"

"Clear," Alex says.

"Clear," I respond, and administer the second shock.

The constant, unbroken beep of the flatline on the monitor shrills through my head.

"The other one was right—this is insane. The guy's dead. Pack it in and let me get back to work. You," he's talking only to Alex now, "I know your face. You used to drive 5417 with the station. You know how things work out there. Come on man, gimme a break over here."

"Clear on 350," Alex says.

"Are you crazy? What, you don't think he fried enough on that plane?" But the paramedic has become nothing but background now.

I meet her eyes and the strangest thing happens. It's like there's this invisible connection between us. A line of communication that doesn't need words.

"Clear," I answer her.

Both me and Alex are staring at the line on the monitor after the last shock. I'm not breathing and I'm pretty sure she isn't either.

"Listen, we all wanna be heroes-" the paramedic starts, but his words are cut off when the unbroken beep suddenly breaks and becomes a series of beeps.

"We have a pulse," Alex says, and quickly moves around checking O levels and other vitals.

She's got this. She probably had it all along. But with Five on her ass, and a thick-headed EMT breathing down her neck, I'm glad I stepped in when I did. I calmly slip the paddles into their cradles and turn to the paramedic.

"You may go now."

"You two are crazy. Chapman," he says, after squinting at the name taped to my stethoscope. "I'll forward any crap I get straight to you."

"By all means. And when this man's family asks me who they need to thank for saving his life, I'll give them your name."

And there isn't much he can say to that apparently, with the way he huffily swipes up his machine and walks off.

"Nice one," Alex says once he's gone. She's back to normal mode now, the look in her eyes back to what I'm familiar with.

"Likewise."

"Hey newbie." Cindy comes over to where we're standing. "We're expecting another busload of people and lo and behold, we're running out of supplies, and fast. But when you try to explain to the powers that be about how overstocks are never a bad thing…"

"I don't understand? You want me to go to the drugstore and get some gauze?"

I purse my lips tightly, wishing Alex would learn the same technique. It would make her life so much easier.

"No, Miss Smartypants. I want you to go down to the basement and see if we've got anything left of our stash down there."

"We don't store anything down there," I say, confused by the request and that it's being made of a doctor instead of one of the nurses.

"Oh, Doctor Chapman, I didn't notice you standing there," Cindy says with a fake friendly air. We both know she noticed me. "Doctor Bennett put me in charge of co-ordinating the next influx."

"So shouldn't you be the one going down there then?"

"It's okay, I'll go. She probably has important files that need filing," Alex says, which must allude to something by the way Cindy's shooting daggers at her with her eyes, but I don't know what. Knowing Alex, she's likely already pissed off half the people who work here in some way or another.

"Alex, no, isn't there an orderly, or another nurse who can do it?"

"All the extra hands are going floor by floor, looking for whatever supplies we have on the ready. But it's not gonna be enough by a longshot. Not with what we have coming in. You heard about the highway?"

"So your first task as co-ordinator is to cost the floor a qualified doctor when you're going to need all the hands you can get?"

"She's an intern, and if she does it right now while things are slow-"

"I said it's okay. I'll go."

"Then it's settled. We should have some first aid packs down there somewhere, and bring back whatever meds you think we could use. I know I sent O'Neill down with a huge bag of dressings, so bring that up too."

"Last I heard, lower ground is where we put all our broken equipment. Extra beds, old vending machines…" I'm still not happy about the topsy turvy power play here, and I'll be damned if I lose.

"Good, you can bring those up too."

"You want me to bring up the beds?" Alex asks, finally deciding to draw the line somewhere.

"They have wheels on em," Cindy says, as if that makes it better.

"Oh then in that case."

"I'm going with her," I say.

"What? Piper, you heard her, there's a shitload of-"

"Language," Cindy says sternly, fixing Alex with her best evil eye. "But she's right, Doc, we need you here for when that ship comes in."

"I'm going with her. And give me that." I make a grab for Cindy's walkie.

"Have it your way, but I'm not taking responsibility for this," Cindy says, but Alex and I are already on our way out. "Attendings are on channel 3!" I hear her shout after us.

* * *

My ears are still buzzing even though we've left the ER behind. Those doors have blocked out the constant hum of chaos, but my veins are still pumping with adrenalin. Adrenalin and now a sickening gnawing feeling about Nicky. That asshole EMT said they lost two trucks out there. I hope to god she wasn't in one of them. It helps that we're making our way to the service elevator in a cracking speedwalk. Nothing like physical exertion to work it out.

"You didn't have to do this," I say to Piper, who's fiddling with the walkie, most likely getting it on the right frequency.

"I couldn't let you go down there alone," she says.

I start to come back with a witty response, but all of a sudden the lights overhead start flickering. And then go out completely. We stop walking. The hallway's empty aside from us, and all I can hear is my own breathing under the buzzing still in my ears.

"What the fuck?"

"Must be the storm. Twelve, thirteen…"

"What are you-"

The lights flicker a bit, and then steady out.

"Back-up generator's on a 15 second delay. Let's go."

We start speedwalking even faster.

"Generator? Are we gonna be able to help those people on reserve energy? Is there even enough juice to get us through the-"

"There's enough juice to last 48 hours," Piper says, and presses the button to call up the service elevator. It doesn't light up. She presses it again. "Power must be re-routed to vital areas only."

"Stairs?"

She nods grudgingly before taking the lead.

When we push into the stairwell, it's completely dark. Like the solid kind of blackness you get in the absolute absence of light. Great. This is just great.

"Penlight." Her voice has that controlled, commanding tone again.

"Huh?"

"Penlight, your penlight, give it to me."

"I don't- I don't have one."

And just because things aren't bad enough, a loud thunk fills the area around us.

"Please tell me you didn't just let go of the door," Piper says.

"You didn't say I had to hold on to it."

I feel around until my hand hits the bar of the stairwell door and I press down hard, an action that should make it click open. But it doesn't.

"Don't bother. It's been faulty for months now."

"It's locked? We're locked in here?!" I'm slamming the bar, refusing to believe it.

"No, Alex, it's unlocked. You're just doing it wrong." Wow Pipes, even in a crisis your find time for sarcasm. "Rule number one, always have your penlight on you."

"Yeah? So where's yours?"

"What?"

"Rule number one-"

"I got changed into these generic scrubs right before I got called over to you just now. My coat's in my locker. I've been in evening wear all night."

"I'm _still_ in evening wear!" My voice ricochets in the emptiness.

"Calm down. Let's just go get the stuff, and when we come back up, I'll radio someone to open the door from the other side."

Her rationale has the right effect on me, and I start calming down. "What if the lights are out down there too? The basement's not a vital area is it?"

"There's only one way to find out." Her body shifts beside me as she starts inching slowly down the stairs. I fall in line behind her and do the same.

* * *

 **TBC**


	7. Chapter 7

Author's Note: So I've got a crazy few weeks of adulting ahead of me, and this is going to have to tide you over until I can get back. I feel bad about long absences but I'll try my best. Hopefully you won't have to wait 84 years for the next update;)

Thank you to all who has commented so far. The love and enthusiasm you all have for this story really makes my day:) I only hope part two doesn't disappoint.

* * *

"Well it's better than nothing," I say after Piper flips the switch that washes the entire room in a dull amber light. Although sometimes it's better not seeing, because this place is downright creepy. "When she said basement, I figured it would be just one open space, not a catacomb of eerie rooms off an even eerier tunnel."

"It's a hallway, not a tunnel. And it _is_ a basement. This floor spans the entirety of the hospital above us."

"Thanks David Attenborough. I'll be sure to tune in next week for your mockumentary on more yawn-inducing facts about hospital basements."

"You start over there, I'll take the shelves on this side," she says, totally not feeling me giving her a hard time.

I obey my orders like a good little grunt, and walk over to the far side of the room. Everything's covered in dust and everything's gross. It looks and feels like the part in a horror movie when something's about to jump out and rip the head off the main character. I'm officially creeped out.

"Are we really gonna use this stuff?" I reach for what looks like a medipack on the top shelf and feel something brush against my fingers. "Ohmygodrat!"

The pack comes crashing down, and when I look up, Piper's teetering dangerously on top of a stool with only three legs, her eyes filled with terror.

"Where is it? Where is it?!" Her head looks like it's about to snap clean off her neck the way she's looking around, examining the floor.

And I just can't… I can't hold back the laughter. Just the sight of her—Miss Cool and Collected—scared shitless, holding on to a broken stool for dear life. I actually have to grab a hold of the shelving next to me just to keep from doubling over.

"Alex! That's not funny!" she huffs, and stomps down from her tower of protection.

"Sorry, I'm sorry." I'm gasping for air. "But there really was something. I don't know what. But it ran across my hand. Up there," I point to the scene of the crime.

"Let's move on," Piper says, eyeing the spot on the shelf in disgust. "There's nothing here."

"I found this." I scoop up the medipack. "There could be more."

"We'll tell the others to check when they come down here for the beds," she motions at the stray gurneys lined up against the other wall. "We can't take them without the elevator, so let's just go, okay?" And she walks off without waiting.

Me? I take a few more minutes to inspect the room. Only because then it wouldn't be like I'm following her around. Screaming how high every time she says jump. When I walk out into the hall, she's already standing at the next room further down, waiting for me. Her features are schooled to be neutral, but I know Piper…

"Sorry. I didn't mean to freak you out back there. But here, I bring an offering of peace." I click the old penlight I found, and the gloom around us swims in the splash of light.

"I accept your apology. Now can you get that thing out of my face?"

Another click echoes in the empty hallway and we go back to black.

"I want to check out this room, but it feels like something's jamming the door," she says.

Excited with my latest find—even though she doesn't seem to be too impressed with it, I use the penlight to investigate. The door doesn't give more than an inch when I push against it, and there's clearly some kind of metal shaft blocking it from the inside. It doesn't look like much though, so I don't get why she didn't just push it out of the way herself.

My face probably gives away what I'm thinking, because she says: "Surgeon hands. Can't risk the damage."

"And I can?" But she just shrugs. Honestly… "Move," I say with more irritation than is probably necessary, but seriously? This surgical food chain analogy is gonna take some getting used to.

I bite the penlight between my teeth to free my hands up so I can get to work on the blockage. But it's a lot more effort than what I first thought.

"Hold this," I say, holding the mini flashlight out to her. I'm breaking a sweat over here and the added exertion of trying to position the light is just making it harder.

"Ugh, no. It's covered in your saliva."

"Oh _now_ you have a problem with my saliva?"

I can't see her face, but it's like the eyeroll I know she must be giving me disturbs the electromagnetic field around us so that I can feel it in its totality. Piper Chapman, so predictable. Anyway, the jibe works and she swipes the penlight from me with no further argument. The feint rustle of fabric in the dark tells me she's giving it a wipe-down with her scrubs. As if… I remember a time when she was loving having my mouth all over her. So the good doctor can keep up this act all she wants. I know truer things.

Meanwhile, this is a lot more effort than I'm in the mood for. Whatever it is that's blocking the door is showing no signs of budging.

"Keep still," I say, puffing the hair out of my face.

"I am keeping still."

"Keep stiller then. And why are we even doing this? I'm sure there are other rooms that we can just walk into."

"Honestly? I wanted to see if I could make you do it." I stop struggling instantly and straighten to look at her. The light shining directly in my face now. "Payback's a bitch."

"No, apparently _you're_ the bitch."

"Oooh, I'm sorry. Did I upset you?" she says with feigned innocence.

I'm not about to give her the satisfaction of any more of a reaction from me. So instead, I take my frustrations out on the stupid door in front of me, slamming into it with my shoulder.

"What are you doing? Alex, stop."

Oh, now she wants to be concerned. Whatever. I don't stop.

"I mean it, Al. You're going to hurt yourself." She gets a hold of my arm just as I dive into another forceful shove, so it does nothing to hold me back but it's nice to know she cares.

I feel the mystery hulk behind the door shift. Now when I push it, the space is more than an inch. In fact…

"We could fit through this gap, right?"

"It's not worth the effort. Let's go check somewhere else, okay?"

"Are you kidding? After what I just went through?"

"It was a stupid joke. I was being stupid."

"Fine, then I'll go alone."

And stubborn is as stubborn does.

How a mess like this got to block the door from the inside is a mystery, but it's one I'm beyond dwelling on right now. I hike up my dress and start to climb over what looks like a mangled gurney cage on top of god knows what else as I wiggle through the miniscule space I just created with a shoulder charge I didn't know I had in me. The standard issue LGH Crocs aren't helping, but they're a whole lot better than my heels would've been.

"Careful," Piper's voice comes from behind me.

I slip through with a few scrapes and the unsteady bulk shifts precariously under me. I stop moving while I try to get to grips with what I'm dealing with in near darkness. Near because Piper, who's probably out there feeling pretty bad right now, is throwing some light inside. After a few seconds of recon, I manage to make my way down the heap of crap.

"Ugh, what the hell?" I'm like ankle deep in water. Must be storm damage.

"What is it? Alex? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine."

The light switch should be on a wall next to the door. I pick a side and feel my way over. The path I chose is littered with all kinds of crap I can't make out, but by the feel of the stuff I keep almost tripping over, this place must be home to where hospital junk goes to die. Lots of heavy metal, empty boxes…

A new sound joins the squelching of my shoes through the ice cold water, and I realize it's the mass at the door that's scraping as it's moving. Piper. I guess she couldn't fight the fomo any longer. Arms stretched out in front of me, I finally smack into the wall I've been searching for, and run my blind fingers along it.

"Oh god," Piper says, once the wreckage we crawled into springs to life with an eerie amber gloom.

"Despite the fucked upness of it all… jackpot," I say, as I clamber my way to meet her in the middle of the room.

Several medipacks like the one I found behind door number one are stacked in neat, albeit dusty columns on an old wooden table in back. Rickety shelves lining the walls are also packed with bags and boxes that must hold the same kind of treasure.

"How do we carry all of it though?" I ask, surveying the loot.

"Drop it on a sheet and drag it up? They're sealed, so we won't contaminate any of it. Oh my god, I can't believe I'm doing this," she says in a total 180 shift in demeanor, and collapses onto the edge of the table.

"Are you okay?" The last thing I need is to be down here with a person losing her shit when there's no easy exit.

"Do you know Jenji Kohan?" She looks up at me and I notice for the first time how tired her eyes are.

"Is he in a boy band? Because I don't listen to that crap." Sorry Pipes, but we're not sinking into a black hole of self pity right now.

"Alex, I'm being serious. The Jenji Kohan award? Named after the greatest female surgeon to live and breathe?"

"What is it like an Emmy?"

"It's an award for surgeons who show excellence in their field," she says with an emphatic air of superiority. Uh-oh, I've awoken the sleeping dragon.

"So it's like a surgical Emmy then."

"A surgical Oscar. And I've won it. Twice."

"Okay… I promise I'll gush and let you autograph my chest later. But can we finish up here first? Look up there, it looks like the bag of dressings that nurse was talking about," I say as I walk over to the wall-length metal shelving right next to the door.

"Twice, Alex," Piper's still on her rant behind me.

I'm trying my best to ignore it. Right now I'd rather figure out a way to get up to the top shelf and grab that bag. A quick look around suggests the best plan of action would be to climb up the debris mountain and get to it that way. So that's what I start to do.

"I'm an award-winning surgeon currently in the basement of a hospital, not saving lives, but leading a stupid scavenger hunt instead." Her voice sounds closer now, like she's right under me actually. Like she was afraid I wouldn't be able to hear the rabid strokes of her own ego if she were all the way across the room. "My feet are wet for the umpteenth time today."

"Could you shut up for a second?" I'm on my tiptoes, stretching the last stretch out of my arm, as I try to get my fingers to hook onto something.

"I'm just saying…"

That's it. Enough. I bring my arm down so I can turn around and tell her to shut the hell up in a face to face kinda way so maybe she'll get it. But the shifting of my weight makes the crap under me dance even worse than it did when I first crawled in here, and suddenly I'm not so concerned about Piper anymore. Now I'm more concerned about how to not fall on my face.

My feet scramble, searching for a decent hold but find none. Last resort, I grab onto the metal shelving with both hands. But of course, as fate would have it, the shelves aren't fixed to the wall. They're not even put together properly, so that when I transfer all my weight that way, the whole thing comes smashing down.

"Oh my god Alex! Are you okay?"

I'm butt-soaked in ice cold water with a pile of crap all over me. What do you think, Piper?

I wanna be mad at her. If it weren't for her going on and on about awards and shit, this wouldn't have happened. But I can't be, because she's bending over me, grabbing at pieces of metal with her surgeon hands, risking her award-winning surgeon career, to get me out from under it.

"Thanks," I mutter, and rip the surgical gown off me that's now been torn to shreds.

"Are you okay?" She turns me this way and that, checking for injuries.

"I'm fine," I reply.

"Alex, the door."

And I'm standing in the middle of a disaster zone with wet feet and a bruised ego and our only way out just got blocked. The hulk of debris, now significantly bigger thanks to my free-climbing stint, has rearranged itself entirely, forming a huge oh no you don't in front of the now closed-off door.

"Fuck."

"What are we going to do?" Piper's asking me like there's gonna be any other answer aside from dig our way out like moles.

* * *

"Still nothing?"

I twiddle the knobs on the walkie, but it's as dead as it was two minutes ago when last Alex asked.

"We're going to die down here," I say. "A hundred years from now they're going to find us, our skeletons huddled together like Quasimodo and Esmeralda."

She's been patiently clearing debris, one piece of rubble at a time, but now she stops and looks at me.

"Why are our skeletons huddled together?"

"Because that's how the story goes. Don't you know it?"

"Of course I know it. But neither of us have a hunchback either."

"So then… I don't know, to keep warm?"

She gives me a skeptical look, and I don't have to ask what she's thinking.

"Basic biology, nothing more. Body heat." I stumble through the explanation.

"Right," she says, and starts back up again. I do the same.

"It feels like we've been at this for hours and we're not getting anywhere."

"We only just started. Toughen up."

"I can't believe they haven't come to find me. Surely by now they must've noticed I'm not there? And with all the casualties coming in-"

"Come to find _you_? Because they wouldn't miss an intern, right?" she asks.

"I'm just saying…"

"Yeah, you just say a lot of things."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing. Let's just do this, okay? Maybe with not so much whining."

Ugh, being trapped in an enclosed space with Alex… Right now I'd much rather be on Trauma rotation for life.

"So tonight was weird. At the thing," I venture into a change of topic. I have to talk about something, because the silence punctuated with random thuds and clangs of rubble is driving me crazy.

"How so?" she asks absently, without breaking the rhythm she's worked up.

"I don't know I just… With George… Old friends? I guess you never existed outside of this world for me, you know?"

"Nope, can you please clarify?"

"You've just always been this- this force of nature who made my trauma rotations hell."

"I thought we were a team," she says with feigned insult.

"Oh no. You were arrogant, you were pushy,-"

"You loved it." She takes her eyes off the shit she's dismantling long enough to look right at me when she says it. I think I believe her.

"No, no I did not. I actually dreaded the sound of your voice, because I knew if you were there you'd call for me."

"And that was a bad thing?"

"You were arrogant, pushy,-"

"Okay, okay, I got it," she says with a chuckle.

The quiet creeps up on us again, but it's a good kind of silence. Just two friends plowing through manual labor together.

"Why did you? Ask for me, I mean."

She shrugs. "I liked you."

I'm struck by how easy it is for her. Saying honest things honestly. Rubble removal is forgotten as I watch her face. If she knows I'm doing it, she's not showing any signs. Her movements stay rhythmic and fluid as she removes one piece of crap after the other.

"Why?" My voice doesn't sound like mine, it's so small.

And now Alex does stop what she's doing. She stops so she can look right at me, and her face—she's wearing that signature arched brow and mischievous smirk like it's nobody's business.

"I thought you were hot," she says plainly. "And I got a kick out of how obvious you were about being into me."

"Into you? I hated you." But she's laughing, and it makes the incredible awkwardness I'm feeling fade away. She's not playing up to the tension, instead she's dissipating it. I like that about her.

"Right," she says, and starts back up with the debris mountain again.

"I spent my time trying to avoid you."

"Whatever you say, Pipes."

I'm ready to let it slide. I know that if I carry on with my paper thin defense it's only going to become more obvious that I'm being totally full of it right now. There's no hiding with this one.

I decide to check the walkie another time. Mostly just to give myself something to do away from Alex. It's like her energy draws its power from me so that after a while it feels like I'm being drained of everything. Any longer and I'll be standing here with no more common sense or defenses or rational thinking to back me up when it comes to making the right decision with her. Although right now, I'm not even sure what that would be anymore.

"Let me try." Suddenly she's right in front of me, and it catches me a little off guard.

"Why, because you're better at pushing buttons than I am? We're out of range. It's not going to work."

"I was just trying to help," she says, making her way back to the pile of junk at the door.

Now I feel bad. But since we're on topic… "Speaking of which…"

"What, helping? Yeah, I'd really like a hand over here, Princess."

"That's not what I meant," I say, but go over and get back to work anyway, ignoring the princess remark for now. "I meant, you like to push people's buttons. And it'd be better for you to work on, I don't know, being a little nicer at work."

"Are you kidding me right now?"

"The way you were provoking Cindy upstairs…"

"She started yet."

"Yeah, but we're at work, not Kindergarten. All I'm saying is, as a doctor, a certain level of decorum is expected, and it wouldn't hurt to get some. It's in your best interest," I finish off, overly-focused on the junk in front of me because I can feel Alex's eyes blazing into the side of my face.

"You're one to talk," she says.

"Excuse me?"

"Learn your interns' names." And she goes back to work.

"Are we on that again?" I say with a tired sigh. She wouldn't understand even if I tried to explain it.

"Yes, because you're not an asshole. But that? The whole number thing you've got going? It makes you look like one."

The only thing worse than having to deal with someone else being right, is having that someone be Alex.

"What do you care anyway?" Is the only response I can think of that allows me to retain some of my power.

"I just thought, since we're giving each other friendly advice and all…"

"But I thought you like friends who are assholes." I regret the words as soon as I say them because I've started a ball rolling that I'm not sure would be wise to roll in an enclosed space with no easy exit.

"What?"

"George Mendez." Fuck it, it's too late to turn back now.

"Oh my god, that's really bothering you isn't it?"

"Why would it?"

"And he's not an ass. He's just… misunderstood."

"You slept with him, didn't you…" That's it Piper, you dug the hole, might as well jump right in.

"Are you fucking kidding me? Are you for real?" Oh now I've got her attention. Now I'm more important than the pieces of crap she's been so busy with.

"Just admit it. I've worked with him for five years. George doesn't have friends. He falls into bed with anything tall and hot and- Oh don't look at me like that. Like you don't know you're tall and hot."

"It's nice to hear it out loud. Especially from you," she says with an easy smile, the outrage that was threatening to be unleashed on me now totally simmered down. "It's also nice to see you jealous." Ah, that's why the outrage is gone.

"Jealous? That's not what this is."

"No?"

"No! This is concern for a friend."

"Platonic friend."

"Exactly."

"Wow Pipes, you're more full of it than I thought."

"He's not a good person."

"And you are?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Learn your interns' names," she spells it out slowly.

"This is ridiculous." Now I start clawing at the rubbish in front of us, because if I don't occupy my hands, they might get some crazy ideas, like wrapping themselves around her neck.

"Finally! We agree on something. This _is_ ridiculous. Your whole platonic friend bullshit? I mean, I'm standing here listening to you go on and on about biology and explaining away the fact that there's something here. Between you and me."

"You know what, okay… so, do I think you're attractive? Yes. You're attractive, I'm attractive, we're attractive people. It's totally normal for us to acknowledge the obvious. It's plain and simple biology."

"I swear if you say biology one more time…"

"It's always science, Al. But we're also adults. Who can choose whether to act on it or not."

"Why are we choosing the not? That's the part I don't get."

"Because-"

"Last night you were ready to call it. What's changed?"

Whoa, I wasn't expecting that to come up. "Last night was… it was…"

"Yeah, I know," she says simply, and silence descends again. Heavier this time.

"Besides," I finally break it. "we work together, and I'm your mentor so-"

"You worked together, with your mentor, and you guys had a thing. But I guess it's only okay when you have something to gain, right?"

I'm not ready to hash this out with her just yet. Or ever. How did this even happen? In my frustration, I blindly start grabbing at random pieces of rubble, which as it turns out, wasn't the best thing to do, because I unwittingly start an uncontrolled avalanche.

"Piper get back!" Alex shouts and grabs at my arm, yanking me out of the way of falling junk.

I look up and see that the door's almost cleared all the way now. And in a kind of epiphany I blurt out "It's like Jenga! Alex, we can totally outsmart this thing," I say, a little too excited, but seriously, I'm more than ready to break out of this prison cell with her.

"Wait, you're bleeding."

I follow her eyes and look down to see a bright red stain slowly swallow up the light blue on one of my pants legs.

"You must've gotten hit by something just now. Here, let me see," she says, and goes for my leg.

I jump back reflexively. "No, it's nothing. It's just a scratch. I didn't even feel it."

Alex straightens and looks at me. She's not buying it. "That's a lot of blood for a scratch."

"I'm a big bleeder. It's okay. I'm fine. Let's just get this Jenga tower down, okay?"

"Would you just let me look at it?"

"I know you want to help, but I'd much rather focus on getting us out of here."

"Take your pants off." Oh my god she's dead serious.

I take a step back. Then another. Widening the space between us. "That's not happening. I mean shouldn't. That shouldn't happen. No."

"You're bleeding."

"I'm not stripping down in front of you. Forget it."

"Oh relax, I'll try real hard to resist, I promise."

"No. This is- this is crossing a line."

"What's a little medical care between platonic friends?" she says with a smirk. "All I want is to see that it's nothing serious. Plain and simple."

"Nothing's plain and simple with you."

"You like that, don't you?"

"See? No, I'm not doing this."

"I was kidding! I'm kidding. Come on, lose the scrubs." She takes a step toward me.

I shake my head no. Because the word's just not there right now.

"Drop 'em." She takes another step, and the space between us is back to virtually nothing.

* * *

I've never had to work this hard to get the pants off a girl in my whole entire life. But hard work pays off, and now I have a pantsless Piper sitting pretty on an old, dusty table. But I swore this would be strictly medical, and I can feel her eyes burning into me, watching me like a hawk, so I'm extra careful about where my own eyes go. It's so fucking hard though! Her milk and honey thighs are killing me. I'm dead. I'm a dead intern providing medical care to my hot mentor. Somebody stick a fork in me.

"Ugh, that's gross. And definitely not just a scratch," I say off the long ass gash running along the side of her left knee. "How could you not feel this?"

"Distracted I guess." She picks up one of the medipacks beside her and rips off the protective film covering.

"What are you doing?"

"I need stitches. There has to be something in here to-"

"You're gonna sew yourself up? Give me that." I move to take the pack from her and she pulls it back, just out of my reach. So I lunge for it, the action making the rickety stool I'm on shift dangerously under me. "Piper, you're not operating on yourself." I commit to a final dive and win the battle of wills.

"It's just a few sutures. No big deal."

"Hold this." I hand her some gauze and tape. "You'll be in charge of dressing the wound once I'm done doing the important bit."

She doesn't look too impressed with my division of responsibilities or the way I'm handling it, but whatever. She's hardly in a position to argue.

The alcohol rinse is the first thing in the pack I go for. It's one of those travel size bottles and I practically empty the entire thing on my hands. Can't be too safe after the mounds of dirt I've been digging in. Once I'm satisfied that they're the cleanest they're gonna get, and once I get a satisfied nod from Her Royal Highness, I tear open a pair of gloves and slap them on.

"Okay, I'm gonna do a little disinfecting first. Or a lot. This place is a hole. You might wanna get a Tetanus shot when we get back upstairs. How do you feel about doing this without numbing?"

"I can take it. Have you ever done this before?"

"I once made a patchwork quilt with my gramma when I was ten, does that count?"

"Alex…"

"That's what you get for asking stupid questions. Of course I've done this before. I can do it with my eyes closed."

"Okay, but just for me, can you keep them open this time?"

"Anything for you, babe. I mean-" But I just shake my head and focus a little too intently on cleaning the bloody mess in front of me.

"I should tell you, I'm feeling really vulnerable right now. Like this… with you."

"It was a slip. It won't happen again."

"Also, I like shorts in summer." And just like that, she lightens the mood again. I almost feel like she's doing it on purpose because she could probably see I was kicking myself for what I just said.

"Ah, so you mean I can't give you a badass Frankenstein scar? Dammit."

"Imagine you were trying out for Plastics. Make it invisible."

"Why? Scars add character."

"I have enough of that, thanks."

"Can't argue with you there," I say, unable to hold back a smile as I slop the wet gauze on the table beside her.

Time for the real work. She's already gotten the suture in the needle and everything I'll need all laid out in surgical formation on a makeshift sterile bed that she fashioned out of rolled out gauze. Go figure.

"You know in ancient times, the Mayans used human hair for suturing."

And here I was worrying about there being an awkward silence the whole time I'm busy. But I should've known better. This is Piper after all.

"You don't say."

"I know, yawn-fest, but I think it's interesting."

"I do too."

"Yeah?" She sounds surprised.

If she only knew… I'm a sucker for things like that. History, ancient civilizations… If she only knew a lot of things. All of a sudden I'm filled with the urge to tell her things. All of a sudden, I want Piper to know things.

"Yes," I reply instead, my concentration still not moving from what I'm doing. Definitely no fleeting glances to her bare thighs looking deliciously soft when I think she's not looking.

"You're shaking. Why are you shaking?" But Piper's always looking…

"Can you just-?" I take a second and breathe deep to steady myself. My hands. I've been doing this for years. What the hell is wrong with me? "I'm fine. See?"

Piper nods after making sure I've gotten my unsolicited shakes under control, and I get back to it. I swear this woman will be the end of me. The silence happens, but it's not the awkward one I was dreading. It's just us alone with each other.

"What're you smiling about? Eyes on the road, Vause."

"They are, they're totally on the road. I'm just- I was just thinking…"

"Is it safe for me to ask what?"

"Before, when you said you're feeling vulnerable, and just… They call you Fort Knox. Did you know that?"

"Who does?"

"Everyone I guess. And anyway, I was just thinking how wrong they are. You're not that complicated. You're always showing people who you are, they just don't know how to look. And I guess… I was smiling because… I know how to look."

She's looking at me with a straight face, but I can see her brain going a mile a minute behind those baby blues. What I wouldn't give to be in that pretty blonde head right now. Instead, I turn my attention back to what I'm supposed to be doing, because I know she'll give it up sooner or later.

"It wasn't like that. With Larry. What you said before," Piper says tentatively. Man, I totally called it. But now's not the time for gloating even to myself. I'll give her the space she needs. "I mean, you're working together, and back then they were a lot easier about the hours we kept. So we basically lived here. Together. And some of our work, I mean, it can get pretty intense. And you share that. You share a lot of things. I loved him. Even after I left him. But it was something that had to be done."

I'm suturing. I'm minding my own business and I'm suturing. But I can't. "So you walked away from a man you loved, because you were afraid of what people would think?" I don't look up when I say it. I'm suturing.

"I walked away, and left people thinking worse. That I used him til I didn't need him anymore. So your argument's invalid. Relax your wrist when you slip the-"

"Then why? Why'd you do it?"

"Because if I didn't, he would've been my mentor forever. And I needed to get away from that. I needed to be a surgeon on my own. Anything else you want to say and be totally wrong about?"

I shake my head no, but keep my head down. It's something I can respect. It's also something that changes a lot of what I think of her. Just when I think I've got her pegged, Piper goes and blows it all out of the water…

And now that there's this solemn air of sharing in a safe space going on: "I lied to you before," I start slowly. "With the kid? I'm not fine. It's all I think about, it's in the back of my head when it's not right up in my face, and I don't get it, because I've lost patients before. I mean, out there it was like a game… getting them to the unit with a pulse, and if we didn't, you know, then we drink it away or fuck it away or whatever. Why can't I stop thinking about this one little kid?"

I'm not suturing anymore. I'm looking up at Piper, who's looking down at me with open pity and it's almost too much. If I weren't attached to her leg right now I'd be across the room, tearing my way out of this place.

She lifts a hand to tuck a stray piece of hair behind my ear—her touch the softest thing in the world as she runs her fingertips along my jaw before finally letting go of me. But there can be no letting go, not really. Because even though her hand is back by her side, I can still feel the ghost of her right against my skin.

"I've got good news and bad news," she says. "Which do you want to hear first?"

"Good news."

"The good news is, there's this box, see? It's a special box for stuff you want to put away for good."

"How do I get this box?"

"Oh, you were born with it."

"Yeah?"

"Uh-huh."

"You'd think my mother would mention something as big as being born with a box."

"You should give her a piece of your mind next time you see her."

"Fully."

This is okay. Shit just got real, but Piper's making it so it's not that big a deal, and in this moment… right now… I could kiss her for it.

"Anyway, so that's not even the best part."

"But wait, there's more?"

"The best part of this box is, that once you put the lid on it, it can never be opened again. So the stuff you put inside, it's like-"

"Out of sight, out of mind?"

"Exactly."

"What if the stuff I need to put inside doesn't fit? I mean, right now it feels too big to fit. I'm assuming, if this box is in me, it's pretty small, right?"

"You keep going. Because the more you go, the smaller the stuff gets. And eventually, one day, the stuff will be small enough to fit. And then you take the box, and you put it right at the bottom, underneath everything else that's you. And keeping on will be easier. Bearable even."

"Okay. I can do that."

"Sure you can."

She might not think of herself as a mentor, but I wouldn't wanna be stuck here—not just in this room, but at this point in my life—with anyone else.

"What's the bad news?" I remember that part just before I get back to my sutures.

Piper looks at me with a half smile. "I have to pee."

* * *

I can't sleep. After Alex and I finally burrowed our way out of the dungeons of hell, reception was restored and O'Neill was the sucker sent on the rescue mission. Now the sun's up but Litchfield's Emergency unit is still cranked to full gear from last night. Who knew that many people would be traveling in a storm like this? On a highway that couldn't survive it.

We went out of the fire and into another, even bigger fire. Thank god for Bursett, the HR demon who swept through the trenches doing fatigue checks on all the staff. I failed first time obviously, thanks to my newly acquired limp, and the fact that I haven't slept in a day. And thank the holy architects for windowless on-call rooms. I was pretty sure I'd pass out as soon as I sunk into my bunk. It's dark and it's warm and it's away from all the chaos. But I can't sleep.

Because it feels like I brought the chaos in here with me, the way my head's dragging me along. Thinking about the basement, and everything that happened down there. It's like the whole world changed but everything's still the same.

I barely caught a glimpse of Alex after we resurfaced, and now I can't stop thinking about how she's doing. She must've been given a time-out from the trenches too. Would she crash in one of the call rooms? Would she go home? I wish she was here. I feel like a good, solid debriefing would help to get the last of this adrenalin out of me, and right now, Alex is the only one I feel like debriefing with. The night was ours, nobody else would get it the same way. And besides, she knows how to look.

A light tap at the door breaks into my tumult of thoughts and brings me back to reality. I hold my breath and listen. They know On-Call 3 is mine. I even put good sheets in here. Nobody else gets the use of this room. And I've been cleared from the floor for the next four hours. Who would be bothering me now?

"Pipes?"

Oh. That's who.

Her voice is so soft, if it weren't for that name sounding the way only she can make it sound, I wouldn't have known it's Alex.

I pull myself into a sitting position, straightening the mess of blankets around me. "Come in." My voice cracks from lack of use, but she heard it because the door swings open lazily right after.

Alex walks in and closes the door behind her, the soft click of the latch sounding like a hammer in the thick quiet around us.

"I can't sleep," she says finally, still standing at the door.

"Me either."

"Nicky's fine."

"What?"

"The trucks… in the landslide?"

"Oh, right, shit, sorry."

"I finally got a hold of her, and she's fine. She wasn't near it so…"

"Good, that's good." And why does it feel so weird right now?

I feel like we really connected tonight. Like we finally moved past all the bullshit that seemed to be constantly wedged between us. So why does it feel so weird right now?

"Anyway, I just wanted to say thanks, I guess, for everything. For backing me up before, with Brook."

"Brook?"

"Five."

"Oh, right, shit, sorry." But she's smiling, and I smile too. Learn the names, I'll get there.

"And so… yeah, that's all I guess. You can go back to sleep now." She turns for the door.

"I wasn't sleeping." She turns back. "And you locked the door so you could say thank you?"

She takes in her bottom lip with her teeth, and looks at me like she's trying to decide something. And then finally she decides…

"I don't wanna be friends, Piper."

"Huh?" My brain officially checks out.

"I locked the door so I can do this…"

Two strides is all it takes for her to get from there to me. Two strides and the space between us is nothing. Two. And she's pulling me off the bunk, and her arms are holding me so tightly I can barely breathe. And then she does the stupidest thing in the world. She kisses me. And I'm just as stupid, because I kiss her right back. And all of the no's I've been telling her gets wrapped up into one long, crazy, totally irresponsible but god so amazing Yes.

Because I don't want to be friends either.


	8. Chapter 8

Author's Note: I'm back:) Although I don't know for how long:/ Thanks again to everyone for their lovely comments on the last chapter. I always get caught up in all your CAPS LOCK squeeing and general all round love for this story. Please keep it up : )

In this chapter: We pick up a few hours later. Italics indicate a jump back in time/flashback if you will. Except when it doesn't, but I wrote it so you don't miss the meaning. Everything else is happening in real time, and the whole chapter is from Piper's POV. Hope this helps to orient you guys a bit.

Also, I'm not sure what constitutes an M rating, but let's call it here for the sake of safety.

* * *

Chapter 8

The hard florescence of Caputo's office sets a stark contrast to the dusky comfort of the on-call room, working to get that rush of blood to the head feeling I had back there to simmer down. But as I'm trying to get out of my head and be in the moment, eager fingers dripping in where I just came from are tugging at me, almost desperate to pull me back in. Back to just a few minutes ago. When Caputo with his office and this whole place in general didn't exist.

 _I don't wanna rush this_

It's like she's in here with me, and the memory of that voice—like honey wrapped in velvet spilling into my ear—makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up.

Shit, now I can feel the warmth spreading over my face as I sit under the Chief's watchful gaze.

"Imagine what it feels like to find out you've been so wrong about something you were ready to bet your last money on," he says, and the tone he's using immediately pulls me out of my head.

"Sir?" My innocence doesn't have to be faked, because right now I have no idea what the hell he's talking about.

At first I thought I was being called in for a pat on the back after last night, but now I'm starting to feel more and more like a kid dragged in to the principal's office. It's a struggle—trying to keep up, to get on the same page. What's worse is I can't really focus on any of it.

Sweaty palms rub across my thighs, the heat ushering easily through my scrubs. I have to quit thinking about her. I have to get myself under control. But Alex…

 _I'm gonna make you come so hard_

I squeeze my thighs together to stop the feeling growing between my legs, but it only makes it more noticeable. Poker face, don't fail me now.

"Honestly Chapman, after the night I had, the last thing I wanted was to come up here and find Fig bearing her teeth and ready to rip me a new one."

Fig? Now I'm really confused…

"Listen," he goes on, "I'm exhausted to the point of falling down dead, but I'm willing to tap into my reserves and hear you out, because that's how we work, you and me. And you? You're going to not make this a waste of my time."

He stops talking long enough to stare me down, making it feel like there's no hulking maple desk between us, and that he's really right on top of me. I'm still clueless, but at least now I know that whatever it is I have no idea about—it's serious.

"Let me start you off," he offers when it becomes clear I'm not close to saying anything. "Mister Caputo, the reason I challenged the authority of another attending in the presence of two first years is…?"

I feel like I could wrack my brain for a century and still not know what the hell he's on about. My head is officially mulch. Everything's a blur. Everything except the one thing that keeps coming up in there, clear as day. The thing with a mouth I can't get enough of…

"Chapman!"

I jump in my chair, eyes furiously blinking away any trace of a mental image in case he can see into my head.

"Hi, I'm talking to you. It would be nice if you could join in the conversation."

"Sir, I don't-"

"Last night Fig put out a Code Orange. We were stretched thin and couldn't afford extensive measures be taken on patients that-"

"Oh…" It was supposed to be in my head, but I'm so relieved to finally understand what it is I'm here for, that I end up saying it out loud.

So Five actually went and told on me. Seems her name's fitting of the age she's acting. And of course Fig couldn't give up the chance to bring it right to the Chief. I'm not sure if I'm more pissed off about that, or the fact that the mountain out of a molehill is what dragged me away from the only place I want to be right now.

"Oh? Is that all? Oh?"

"I don't see what the problem is. We saved a man's life."

"We." His voice pinches on the word. "Which brings me to the other thing… You supported a first year in insubordination, misconduct... and with another first year as a witness. Do I need to spell out what behavior like this can do to your reputation?"

"Insub-? Sir, there was a way for us to save him. I wasn't going to turn away from that."

"Us. We. Listen…" He sounds exhausted, but mostly fed up with me. I'm not used to this position. Not the teacher's pet. "I chose you to take over for Gloria, because you've shown your commitment to the work from the first day you walked in here. Objective, clinical, professional…" That last word is pushed out through a clenched jaw. "Now I have people losing their shit in the middle of my office because of favoritism, inappropriate behavior-"

"Excuse me?" Oh, if he didn't have it before, he's got my attention now. I press my back straight into the chair, and the hands that were resting in my lap are now gripping the armrests.

She wouldn't. Fig and I aren't exactly best friends, but surely there's some kind of rule that stops colleagues from talking about each other and what goes on outside of work? She wouldn't.

"I'd be lying if I said I wasn't surprised. Out of everyone here, I always thought you were the one I could depend on to be above all of that… stuff," he finishes with a tired wave of his hand.

Even if I had a response, it wouldn't have made it past the lump in my throat. I swallow hard, and put all my effort into keeping my cool. This is nothing. They've got nothing.

"Look, I don't care about what or who my staff chooses to pass their time with. But when it affects this hospital, that's when I care. And you're not just a staff member here. You know what the past few years have been, and what your work here means. So when it comes to you and your time, I have to say something."

"Sir, I can assure you that my relationship with Alex Vause is strictly professional." I hope he still trusts me enough to buy it, because this time my innocence has to be faked. Big time.

 _The line we're crossing isn't just blurred—it's invisible, thanks to the darkness wrapped around us, making way only for heavy breath and searching hands. Alex kisses me like we have all the time in the world. Time she's using to slowly, painstakingly drive me insane. I find myself straining to hold back so I can match the pace she's setting. Savoring what all our never-going-to-happens have finally boiled down to._

 _I want her so fucking much I could rip through every piece of cloth getting in the way of her skin on my skin. But I don't. This controlled, contained hunger on a leash is hot as fuck. And the fact that we're in here doing this, when really we shouldn't be just makes it even hotter._

 _I grab her ass and just as I hoped, it makes her bear down on me. "Alex…"_

" _Shhh…" she breathes into my neck before kissing me there, and then sucks the breath right out of my lungs in a way I know will leave a mark. "I don't wanna rush this."_

"Are you saying she's lying?"

I blink a few times, but say nothing as I wait for every bit of me to return to the chair and the office I'm in.

"Answer me," he says.

So this is how this is happening. A little unexpected—being sold out—but I'm starting to think maybe Fig just did me a favor without even knowing it. Maybe this is my chance to make it okay. I've won him over before, I can do it again.

"I don't see how my personal life has any bearing on my work or the hospital."

"So then you admit your dealings with this intern is of a… personal nature?"

"Sir, with all due respect, the amount of fraternization going on under this roof is… a lot. Have you called the other attendings in for the same kind of questioning? I could give you a list of names if you-"

"You forget that before I sat in this chair, Chapman, I used to be you. You think I don't know what goes on here? I just told you I don't care."

"But then why-"

"Okay, you say you don't see the bearing. Well then let me spell it out for you…" He moves from his chair for the first time, to start pacing behind his desk. "Let me take you back a few years ago, when I stuck my neck out for you. When I stood in front of the board and defended you and your actions—in a situation similar to this—so that they wouldn't write you off as a waste of time."

Oh my god, I can't believe he's bringing up my relationship with Larry. I feel the heat rising in my neck, but I set my jaw against it. Losing my temper won't help now.

"I never once brought this hospital in disrepute. We were discreet and the work we accomplished speaks for itself. The work I did without him, even more so."

"Do you honestly think they would've given you the time of day if I hadn't said anything? You were a snot-nosed intern, fresh off the bus. And you don't have to tell me about your work. I know all about it. That's why you're here now. Twice you were up for that award and twice you won it. You think that would've happened if I let them think what they were all thinking in the beginning?"

"What were they thinking?"

"Are you seriously asking me that? What do you think this'll do for your credibility as a serious surgeon, for your clinical trial, when this pattern becomes clear to people who can make or break you?"

"Pattern?" I can't do more than speak in questions.

"You were an intern, you jumped into bed with your mentor. Now you're the mentor, and you're jumping into bed with interns."

"Intern—there's no plural. And Alex wasn't an intern at the time. It was before she started the program, and nothing happened after that. We've been one hundred percent professional since." I swallow the last few hours down and hope he doesn't see it in my eyes.

 _When she's on top of me it feels like safe, like I could stay here forever, with her thigh wreaking all kinds of havoc as it pushes against the ache between my legs. That's the part that terrifies me—how easily my body surrenders to her every move. An expectant throb builds, and my hands snake their way into her hair—whispers of cool silk against my burning skin—so I can pull her in to deepen the kiss._

 _I wonder if she knows what this is doing to me. The not rushing. The holding back. She bucks her hips just once, and the ache becomes a heavy pulsing that tightens around my clit just as her teeth clamp down on my lip. The moan out of me is maybe louder than I mean it to be, and it's all strangled up. Like help I can't breathe but also, oh god don't stop. I fix on her eyes, almost black in the dimness, and even though I'm having trouble seeing straight, there's no mistaking the smirk in them. Who am I kidding… of course she fucking knows._

"One hundred percent professional… So you believe challenging the authority of another attending in front of first years who you're supposed to be leading by example… that's your one hundred percent?"

"The situation called for it, and I stand by my decision. I made the right call, and the patient survived because of it. I would've done the same if it were any other intern there."

He stops pacing and leans on his desk with flat palms, shaking his head slowly. He's not convinced. Shit.

He starts talking again, but this time his tone is level and calm. "The interns, Fig, Harper-"

Wait, Harper? He spoke to Polly? How big a deal did that fucking grunt actually make?

"-they all say that this Vause character is not the kind of person who… shall we say, takes kindly to authority. She's been in the program for a week, and has already been checked for misconduct."

"It was nothing serious. She's good." My voice is small when I make the counter argument. I'm shrinking. My fight's shrinking. Because he's not exactly wrong about her…

"I don't want good. I can find good on the sidewalk. What I need is a team player. You've always been a team player." Another day, another life, those words would've made me beam with inner pride. Now it only makes me cringe. "This intern, she sounds dangerous, Chapman. Not just for you, but for Litchfield if you can't control her. And the feedback I got already tells me that's a long shot. I take it she's not one for being controlled. Intimate relations will only complicate matters and make the situation even more volatile."

"I don't know what you mean."

"I mean, if you're being honest and things haven't escalated between you two… lines are already blurred where she's concerned. Who's to say it won't get worse if something _does_ happen again?"

"You _can_ say. Because you know me. You said it yourself—I'm clinical, professional-"

"Except everything I've heard lately goes against that. You've been acting out of character and people have been noticing."

"Out of character? I've been giving you my best work, as I always do, and the last time I checked that's all that matters."

"Not to the people you just asked to throw millions of dollars into your study. You know what they're like. What's your name going to mean on that paper? Or are you so taken with this intern that you'd risk everything you worked for? You're willing to have your credibility questioned at a time you can least afford it?"

A twinge springs up in my jaw the way I'm biting down on words that shouldn't come out right now. I can't believe this is happening. I never ask for anything. There's never anything I want that I can't work for and take myself. And the one time there is…

 _I slide my hand between her legs, and can't help the gasp that comes next. I wasn't expecting this. Whatever sustained control Alex is showing me, her body isn't having the same success. The wetness at her core—warm and slick—coats my fingers, and she moans into my mouth when I start to slowly stroke the swollen evidence of just how much she wants me._

 _Desperate fingers clutch my hair and a ragged trembling snakes through her entire body. So sure and steady before, now barely holding on. Another thing I wasn't expecting. The power Alex has over me… turns out I have it too. To make her succumb whether she wants to or not. To completely ruin her in the most primordial way._

 _I don't stop my movements, and I don't let go of her mouth even though it's clear to breathe is becoming a real priority. But what we both want now is more necessary than survival._

" _Fuck." It comes out in a shaky breath as she lifts her face just enough to get that all-important gulp of life-giving air._

 _She shifts easily until she's right on top of me, and pins both my hands above my head. Her eyes find mine and my first instinct is to look away. Like the face of God himself, they've become these unspeakably intense things that shouldn't be taken head on. But I can't. Because I instantly see that whatever self-control she's been calling on is all used up. Desire rages in them like a black storm, and I don't stand a chance. I don't want to stand a chance. I want her to destroy me. The throbbing between my thighs is begging for it. Begging her to finish me. Just kill me already._

" _I'm gonna make you come so hard." She sets my skin on fire with open mouth kisses and plunges into me with an unrestrained craving that steals my last conceding breath._

"I'm replacing you with Wash," Caputo says. I come back to the moment to find him seated behind his desk again. "I think your time with the interns is up."

I nod a little too vigorously. "Fine."

It's an easy thing to give up. I didn't want them anyway. And if I'm not her mentor then I can be her something else. And it's the something else I really really don't want to give up. Not now.

"The board gave me this testimonial they want me to fill out. I want to know that we're on the same page before I do." He looks at me with raised eyebrows.

I nod again. Slower this time. "My work always comes first."

"I know. And I want this as much as you do, Chapman. You know what landing this trial can do for Litchfield. After your work with Bloom, you're on a good footing with the powers that be. My personal recommendation will seal it."

"Thank you, sir."

"But if my name's in the mix, it means whatever scandal or drama or whatever you kids get up to these days… it means I'm going to be part of that."

"There'll be no scandal."

"I stood up for you before, saying that same thing, and two years later you made a liar out of me." He fixes me with a hard stare that I can't help but shift in my chair as I shrink a little.

I can't believe something as inconsequential as what happened with Larry so many years ago is being used as relevant ammunition for my situation now. And there was no scandal! We parted ways amicably. Nobody got hurt—not the hospital, not our work. It feels almost as if the chief is chasing up ghosts, and it's giving me a bad feeling. It's like he won't be happy with just my removal from the intern program and a promise to keep in line. It's like he wants-

"I'm removing Vause from the program."

A rock from I don't know where drops in my stomach.

"You can't do that." I mean to sound assertive and not-to-be-messed-with, but it comes out sounding weak and defeated instead.

"I'll look into Hopkins or Mayo, there are tons of equally good programs for her to-"

"You're killing her career before it's even started and for what?" Now the voice I was looking for is coming through. Just thinking about Alex, how hard she's worked for this…

"It won't be like that," he says. "It'll be a transfer. I'll strike whatever negative comments from her record. It'll be a clean move."

"No."

"Transfers happen all the time, Chapman. Sometimes it just isn't a good fit between a hospital and an intern."

"If she wanted Hopkins or Mayo she would've applied there. _Our_ surgical program is the one she wants. It's the one she worked for and got into on merit well-deserved. She's going to make a great surgeon and this place will be better off for it. A decade from now she could be me. You really want to stick a bow on that and hand it to our competition?"

"Is that your professional weigh-in? The potential of this intern?"

Just when I finally closed my hands on the first thing I cared about more than this stupid job… The look on his face drives home the fact that being with Alex is slipping away.

I can only imagine what it must've taken for her to get in here while working a demanding job with crazy hours. That alone speaks to what she's made of. Am I going to sit here and let her lose it all over something I want? Without even having a say in it? This doesn't feel right. It feels like I'm sitting in on a dirty, underhanded scheming session.

"What do you want from me?" Now I sound just as tired as he looks.

"I already told you what I want." He props his elbows on the desk and rests his chin on folded hands. "Is it something you can manage?"

I stand up, smoothing my scrubs to hide the shaking in my hands, and turn to leave. I haven't used my legs in a while, but I know the jelly in my knees have nothing to do with that. I don't know how I'm going to do this. I don't even know what the _this_ is that I have to do…

"What's the call, Chapman?" His words stop my feet just as I reach the door.

And his pushing makes me admit to myself that I do know what it is I have to do. I think I just didn't want to think it. Because what I _have_ to do is the exact opposite of what I _want_ to do…

"Alex stays in the program," I say flatly without turning around, and then I leave, not even bothering to close the door behind me.

Back in the bustle of a place trying to right itself after all hell has broken loose, it's starting to feel more and more like Alex in that on call room was just a figment of my imagination. Out here the real world is ugly and cold, and has no sympathy for the likes of me. There's no time for emotional chaos when people's lives are hanging in the balance.

I weave my way down hallway after hallway, sidestepping a running resident here, avoiding collision with a nurse there. Everyone is busy and everyone has the most important job in the world to do and somewhere in the back of this hospital, three floors beneath me, is a now empty on call room that was what feels like moments ago filled with everything I didn't know I wanted so goddamn much. The on call room that almost became the part in my story where things start looking up. _Almost_ … The Anti-Climactic Story of Love in the time of Extenuating Circumstances.

I can afford to be on auto-pilot. I trust my feet to find their way like they've done so many times before. Once I'm alone in the elevator it hits me. Like the depressing sigh when the doors finally seal flips a switch in me. I won't be in the real world for at least a few seconds and there's no-one around watching or judging.

I know that doing the right thing is hardly ever easy. But is it supposed to make you sick to your stomach like this? Is it supposed to make every cell in your body want to shrivel up and cave in on itself because what comes next is just too much to be alive for?

A figment of my imagination. Only, I know it's not. What happened between us is still very much real. I can still smell her, taste her… a shiver creeps unbidden down my spine. If I close my eyes I could probably feel her (don't close your eyes, Piper). Just hang in there. A few more hours and it'll officially be The Past. A few more days, weeks… maybe I'll be lucky enough to have it be forgotten altogether. Forget Alex. A hunk of bile burns the back of my throat as a caustic snigger escapes me. It's so stupid it's funny. But not funny ha-ha. More like funny how-is-this-my-life-right-now. The universe must be having a good old laugh at my expense.

Look at little Piper, thinking she'll be able to move on and forget about Alex Vause. She should know better.

I hate to admit it, because it makes what I have to do so much more complicated, but the universe is right. I should know better. In fact, I do. Oh god, I do.

 _I make my way down her body with wet, lazy kisses. Down to the place I know she wants to be kissed the most. Circling, wandering lines taking in every inch of her milky skin. Sometimes I stop to spend some time in the places I like best. I love the way her breathing changes when I take her breast into my mouth. When I touch her in general. The way soft moans flutter through her irregular breathing, making me want to give her more. Sometimes I get distracted along the way—the beauty spot just below her breast, the one beside her belly button, the freckle on her inner thigh… I use my mouth to claim all of it._

 _Loud static suddenly rips the thick pocket of lust around us, making me jump a little. For a while there I was so sure we were alone in the world. I hold my breath, and I can feel Alex do the same, while we wait to hear someone say something that has nothing to do with either of us. Please let it not be for either of us…_

Doctor Chapman, _Cindy's voice bellows out of the godforsaken device, making me cringe. Fuck. Shit. Shitfuck._

 _Alex groans and falls back onto the pillows as I sit up, her legs still wrapped around me._

Doctor Chapman, come in, _the voice comes again, and only then do I make a move for the walkie._

" _This isn't happening," Alex says under her breath. I can't help but smile at her obvious disappointment. It feels nice, being that for someone._

" _Chapman," I say into the walkie and release the button, waiting._

You left your pager at my station and the Chief's been trying to find you.

 _I hold the button down to respond, but release it almost instantly because Alex has suddenly given up her lounging back. Apparently messing with me is more fun for her._

" _Why'd you leave your pager, Chapman? The Chief wants you, Chapman," she says mockingly as she nuzzles my neck, her hands ghosting the bare flesh of my middle when she puts her arms around me, pulling me deeper into her._

" _Alex, stop." I know they can't hear us but I'm stifling a giggle anyway._

" _Make me." She nips at my ear before sucking on it._

 _I shoulder some space between us and try to give her my best fake stern look, holding my finger to my lips in a silent shush. She raises her hands in surrender and a sign for me to continue, so I do._

" _Sorry about the pager," I start, but then have to stop because I faked my stern look and Alex faked her surrender._

" _You better be sorry," she says, and I have to fight so I don't melt into the kisses she's trailing down my neck, along my shoulder. It's the hardest fight of my life._

" _Alex, not now." But my head drops back against the wall behind me, giving her more because that's what I want. This is one fight I have no interest in winning anyway._

 _I'm barely holding on to the walkie when I say "I'll pick it up later, and tell the Chief-" my breath hitches as Alex palms my breast. I can feel the warm wetness of her pressed up against my hip, her hot breath in my neck, and I can't. "…tell him… later… also…" I mumble into the walkie before letting it fall beside me. My hands are needed elsewhere._

 _I grab hold of her face and kiss her hard, swallowing the long moan it draws out of her and using it to stoke the fire burning up inside me. The one that's saying enough. This is it—the tipping point. No more holding back and taking time…_

 _The static breaks out again. This time it's me with the groaning._

Not later. He wants you now.

" _I want you now," Alex says, and she moves so swiftly it's a second before I realize she's straddling me and I have nowhere to go. Not that there's anywhere else I'd rather be…_

 _I lower my mouth to her breast, fingers digging into her back as she rocks against me._

Doctor Chapman?...

" _Tell her no." She kisses me. "Tell her there's someone you have to fuck the life out of first." She kisses me again._

Doctor Chapman, are you there?...

 _My ears are ringing. And when I push inside her, my fingers sliding into that sweet, deep warmth, it's like my mind goes black. She moves with me, her hips working to the pace I'm setting._

" _Oh god, Pipes." It's breathy and thick and sexy as fuck, making it so damn hard to go slow._

Chapman…

 _A whole other voice joins our tryst and I freeze up._

Chapman, this is the Chief.

 _Yeah, I got that… I rest my head against Alex's chest with a deflated sigh as I try to get myself under control. She's running her fingers up and down my back, which isn't really helping, but then again, I don't think that's what she wants to do._

You get your ass to my office. Now. Where the hell are you anyway?

 _The question makes me snap out of it. Even Alex is on edge now. No more stroking or peppering with kisses. Because if they're asking, they might come looking, and if they find us…_

" _I- I'm here, Chief." The walkie shakes in my trembling hand, still coming down from the high I'm on._

 _Alex moves off me with a heavy sigh and lies back on the pillows again. We share a look of understanding. This was our moment come and gone. For now anyway._

Good. Now instead of being there, be where you're supposed to be and stop wasting my time. _His voice breaks off with a crackle that leaves the room deathly quiet._

" _Well that was fun while it lasted," she says and makes a swipe for her scrubs lying in a forgotten pile on the floor._

 _I get up and do the same for mine. "Wait here, I'll be right back." We swap shirts—dark blue mine, light blue hers. Imagine the looks I'd be getting walking around with that little telltale sign that I've been up to no good._

" _Forget it."_

" _No, no don't forget anything. I'll be right back."_

The elevator doors slide open and I just stand there looking at the trenches in front of me. Overflowing with beds and activity. I don't want to go out there. I don't want to go into the what happens next.

The doors start to slide back closed and I let them. Maybe if I stay on here a little longer, a few more senseless rides, I'll eventually buck up and grow a pair. I watch the trenches shrink into a smaller and smaller line and hold my breath waiting for the doors to finally kiss, when a disembodied hand appears out of nowhere and my escape is thwarted as the doors jump and slide back open.

"You okay, Chapman?" It's John. He's at least cleaned up since the last time I saw him. "Heard the Chief ripped you a new one." His attempt at sincerity is tripped up by the stupid smirk he's wearing. Easy Bennett, right now I could rip _you_ a new one. "Seriously, you okay? You look… sick…"

I take a steadying breath and then move silently past him. I barely have the words I need, let alone ones to waste on him.

"My pager," I say to Cindy once I get to the nurse's station.

She looks up and seems surprised to see me, but then her features turn into something else. She looks like a dog that stole someone else's bone and got away with it.

"Some crazy stories flying around here tonight, Doc. I'm not really sure what to make of it."

"Pager."

And of course the stories would be flying already. With Five probably instigating the whole thing.

She hands me my pager, holding on even after I've closed my fingers on it. "I don't believe any of it, though," she says in a stealthy whisper.

I grab the pager out of her grip and clip it to my waistband. "Where can I find Doctor Vause?"

And the way her eyebrows shoot up, I know she believes everything she's heard.

"Walls have eyes and ears around here, you know."

I'm suddenly aware of the sidelong glances that I'm getting. "I don't have time for this. Do you know where she is or not?"

"She and Jefferson're neck deep in charts in Exam 4."

"Was that so hard?"

And the eyes I can feel on me from every direction make my feet move faster as I make my way down to the exam room. I don't want to get there, but I don't want to be gawked at and whispered about either.

I should knock, but don't, and when I swing the door open, it's Alex I see first, looking up at me over her glasses, a chart among hundreds lying open in front of her on the rolling gurney. Looking at me like she's been expecting this particular visit.

Two's the opposite of that. More like Cindy with her wide-eyed surprise.

"Can you please give us a minute?" My voice sounds strained. Tired. Thankfully that's all it sounds like. Everything else I'm feeling is still neatly tucked away.

Two's gaze shifts between me and Alex a few times, like she's unsure of what to do next. So the stories have reached her too. Which means it's likely Alex has heard them by now.

"Please," I throw it out there to help my cause along.

It works. She rises slowly from her seat, and makes her way toward me.

" _No, no don't forget anything. I'll be right back."_

" _I have a shitload of charting to do anyway. Admissions was a fuck up, so now the grunts get to play clean-up."_

" _But-"_

" _Relax." She pulls up her pants and sidles up to me, taking me in her arms. My new all time favorite place to be. "You go deal with your stuff, I'll deal with mine, and we can pick up where we left off. There's time." She rubs her nose against mine and then gives me a quick peck on the lips. "We have nothing but time."_

" _Okay." I kiss her back, and apologetically step out of her embrace. Losing her warmth makes me sad and all I can think about as I make my way to the door, is how long it'll be before I get it back again._

I stand aside just enough for Two to pass, before gently closing the door behind her.

Now it's just me and Alex and something I have no idea how to start saying. So I decide to just jump in and let it figure itself out along the way.

"Alex, we need to talk."


	9. Chapter 9

Author's note: Hi everyone. I'm so sorry this update has been so long in coming. This story hasn't been abandoned. It's just that there was life and there was stuff and hopefully all of it will give me a breather to focus on writing a bit more. I have a few chapters outlined and it's my plan to get them up every few days or so. They're a lot shorter than what I've done previously, but it works better for my time at the moment. Hope you understand, and I hope you enjoy!

* * *

 **Chapter 9**

 _Alex, we need to talk…_

Nicky bursts into the bathroom and I'm suddenly not in Exam 4 with Piper anymore. I'm two days later, getting ready for a new shift. She leans heavily against the door as she closes it and the look on her face makes me forget the conversation I was busy reliving for the hundredth time since it happened.

"Twice in two days," she says with a cheeky grin and a waggle of her eyebrows. "I think you're losing the plot, Vause. This isn't how the whole use-em-and-lose-em thing is supposed to go."

I don't want to give her the satisfaction of a response, but to keep her from seeing one etched on my face, I bend over the pale blue porcelain sink, holding my hair out of the way while I make seriously slow work of spitting out the toothpaste stinging my mouth. She stands there and watches me do it. Her stare cuts through me and makes me almost not want to look back up.

"What are you looking at?" I'm more than a little irritated with her barging in on my morning routine. And also the thoughts that were keeping me company while I was at it. My hair is still wet, but I pull it into a messy bun on top of my head anyway. Just to give myself something to do.

"Nothing," she says with a shrug, folding her arms across her chest. "I'm just trying to figure out… Nah, never mind."

She's dangling a carrot that she wants me to bite. Poking me for a reaction. But I'm not going to give it to her.

"Fine. Please get out of my way." I make a go for the door but she deftly blocks me.

"That's it? You're just giving up?" She's still wearing that stupid grin, but she's the only one in the room who finds this in any way amusing.

"Do you mind? I have work." She doesn't move. So we stand there, staring each other down.

"So why haven't you nailed her yet?" she asks eventually.

Of course I had an idea we were headed in this direction, but the question, delivered in that blatantly crass way only Nicky can manage, still catches me a little off guard. "Who says I haven't?" I mirror her folded arms with mine and try my best to look like I'm not lying through my teeth. But this is Nicky. I could never hide from her.

"I thought Knox was supposed to be a one-time thing."

I start to tell her not to call her that, but instantly know it won't help the case I'm trying to make, so I say "You thought right. That's all it was," but don't look at her when I do.

"Okay, so then what's the hold-up with Hello Nurse inside there? She's so obviously down, which means the delay must be coming from your side."

"What? There's no-"

"I'm just saying, it looks like you have a problem in the shape of a pretty blonde brain doctor, and if you wanna sweep that problem under the rug, you better quit wasting time and get to sweeping, instead of making that poor hot rug follow you around like a lost puppy."

"You wanna say that a little louder? I don't think she caught all of it." I'm struggling to keep my own voice down but with the anger that my friend is steadily stoking, it's not that easy. "And she's not a rug, okay. I'm not sweeping," I add as an afterthought.

"Right." She's not convinced.

"And in case you haven't noticed, I've been drowning in work."

"Never stopped you before," she says without missing a beat.

"We barely know each other."

"Like you give a fuck." Again, no beat missed. In true Nicky fashion. And the combination of her no-shit tone and the look on her face is grating my last nerve. "The Alex I know would've been all up in that-"

"Get out of my way." I push past her, using my elbow to nudge her aside and clear the door so I can flee through it. I mean walk, not flee.

I don't need to hear what the Alex she knows would've done. I know only too well. The thing is, I'm not sure that Alex is this Alex. The one Nicky's talking about, she lived and breathed on the other side of two weeks ago. When things were a lot simpler and Piper Chapman was just some perv action I caught on shift. Now it's starting to feel like that Alex doesn't live here anymore.

I stride into the living room but come to a stop when I see Laney standing over by the book shelf. She's wearing the same blue jeans she had on yesterday, black lace-up boots to go with a great leather jacket. Not ideal for the blistering cold outside and she's totally gonna freeze her ass off on the back of my bike, but she looks good and I think that was the deciding factor in her get-up today. I'm beginning to think I may have bitten off more than I can chew with this particular distraction. All I wanted was a way to pass time outside of my head. Now I feel like there's pressure and expectation. I hear Nicky come into the room behind me and it kicks me into gear.

"Ready to go?" I move into the room and swipe my coat from the back of the chair. There's really no rush, but I feel like rushing things along anyway. The longer I'm in here with them, the worse I'm gonna feel.

Laney turns at the sound of my voice and her face lights up, twisting a little knot of guilt in my stomach. "I brought coffee," she says, pointing to the still steaming cardboard cups on the table. She got the good stuff. Even brought one for Nick. The little knot grows. Twists a little more. "I only just learned Nicky doesn't do coffee in the morning, so I guess it's more for us."

I catch Nicky's raised eyebrows she shoots my way at the word 'us' and look away. "Thanks," I mumble, picking up my drink out of sheer guilt and obligation and how am I even in this situation right now?

 _Alex, we need to talk…_

I take a huge gulp that scalds my tongue, the bridge of my mouth, and all the way down, but I don't stop. I want it to get right in there, scald away at my insides and take this guilty feeling with it. By the time I lift the cup from my lips it's halfway finished and they're both looking at me.

"Was that good for you?"

"It's not that hot," I say to Nicky, who just shakes her head and laughs softly to herself.

"Well okay," she says, clapping her hands and rubbing them together, "I wanna get to the station before all the jelly donuts are gone so I'll leave you two lovebirds to it." She throws a wink at Laney as she pulls on her jacket and I swear the nurse turns pink all the way from the neck of her cream colored cashmere sweater right up to her forehead.

I'm glaring at Nick, shooting covert daggers with my eyes right into her heart, but she knows better than to look at me after making a stupid comment like that, and so all of my efforts at Death by Staring go to waste.

"Catch ya later masturbator." Nicky breezes out, slamming the door behind her, leaving only awkward silence and the chill of expectation hanging heavy in the air. I start to wonder if Laney can hear the way my brain is hurtling right now. I go back to my coffee so I don't have to look at her. I don't know why I'm feeling this way all of a sudden. I was quite fine before Nicky felt the need to corner me in the bathroom just now. I was fine. Completely fine. I need to be fine again. Get back on track. Remember what it is I'm doing. And what it is I absolutely shouldn't do.

"Well there're no jelly donuts at Litch Gen, and we still have a half hour to kill." Laney shrugs off her jacket and throws it on the sofa, looking at me the whole time she does it, wearing a smile that tells me the coffee wasn't anything more than a prop, a courtesy.

So obviously down, like Nicky would say.

* * *

All eyes are on me when I walk into the locker room and when I start toward my locker, I realize there's a reason everyone's gathered around in a semi-circle, and it's not to form some kind of welcoming party for me.

"Tardiness isn't a lack of time, Doctor Vause, it's a lack of respect," Wash tells me with a cold stare. And that's saying a lot since she's probably the only attending without a cruel bone in her body.

"Sorry. Traffic." I shuffle to take up a spot beside Jefferson, shrinking back in the hope of disappearing altogether. The fact that everyone's already in scrubs and I'm standing here like a lame civilian makes my sore thumb syndrome even worse.

"Don't let it happen again," Wash says before turning her attention back to the room. I nod my acknowledgement, my shoulders dropping in relief as soon as her eyes move off me.

She starts talking and I get an elbow jab from Jefferson. "Didn't miss much. Waiting on our assignments," she whispers out the side of her mouth, still looking straight ahead as if she's paying the world of attention to the attending in front of us.

I give a small smile of thanks, genuinely grateful for some kind of ally in this place after the rocky start I've had. "Thanks."

"You'll get a chance to return the favor," she says, but then her face breaks into a smile too. I think we're friends now.

"Take one and pass the rest around." Wash hands a bunch of papers to Brook, who promptly does as she was told. I watch the pile grow smaller as it moves from intern to intern like the most boring game of hot potato. "These forms are compulsory. A new procedure I'm instituting. The aim of which is to reassert your focus as a surgical intern to always put the work first." This last bit gets me to look up and I see she's staring right at me. What the fuck? "As you know, you'll be working in pairs," she goes on, shifting her gaze now that she's happy she has my attention, "and each of you will be required to use this form to review the work of your partner for the week that you're together. The attending whose service you will have been on for that week will also be filling out a similar form. And a word of warning – they're not happy about the added paperwork, so you're going in at a disadvantage. Don't give them a reason to give you a bad review."

I finally get my sheet and scan it with mild interest. Bedside manner, attention to detail, dealing with authority, bullshit, bullshit… The back of my neck feels like it's on fire and it's not because of the temperature control in here. Wash is still droning on but I'm not listening. I can't stop staring at this stupid form. Obviously the administration's way of clamping down, of keeping rogue interns in line. It just so happens they only have one of those on their hands, which makes this whole change in procedure feel a lot more personal.

"Great. Babysitting forms." I recognize the voice as Six, who's standing right behind me, and just when I start to feel a kind of kinship that I'm not the only one hating this new arrangement, he spits out, "Thanks a lot, Vause," which starts a case of sniggers from other interns within earshot of his underhanded whispering.

It feels like a kick to the gut, really. They all know why it's Wash in here and not Chapman, and they hate me for it. The fact that they lost out on being mentored by a superstar and have to put up with a general surgeon instead. And because being Litch Gen's newest pariah isn't enough, there's changing of protocol and amending procedures. Just to rub my nose in it. To remind me I'm being watched from all sides. I set my jaw to try and keep from saying something I might regret. Jefferson though, bless her heart, doesn't have the same kind of restraint.

"You just mad 'cause this form puts you on the fast track outta here. Not that you need the help," she says in her outside voice and a hush falls over the locker room. I enjoy the look on Six's face probably more than I should but fuck him.

"Please, Doctor Jefferson," Wash doesn't look too happy with the interruption, "this is exactly the kind of behavior we're trying to avoid."

"He was asking for it," Jefferson replies. I have a feeling what her Dealing with Authority section's gonna look like this week.

All the other interns start weighing in, their voices becoming a muddled buzz as they all talk at the same time. I'm trying to ignore it, but singular phrases like 'so unfair' and 'we have to pay for her mess' ricochet off me. I've had bad days, sure, who hasn't, but this is quickly muscling in to take top spot on my list of worst days ever.

"Enough!" Wash is the smallest person in the room, but she gets her voice right out there and it works to quiet everyone. "I get that you're stressed. You're in a stressful situation. This program is the hardest few years you're going to have to endure in your life. All the more reason to keep your head down and your nose clean." I see her actively work to not look at me this time. Probably afraid to single me out in case it starts a riot. Or maybe I'm just feeling picked on and targeted and all of this has nothing to do with me. A girl can dream. "Think on this," she goes on, "you're in direct competition with each other. Your ultimate goal is to stand out from every other intern in this group. But also, the only way you're getting through this program is if you learn to work together." It's like I can hear everyone's brains get tangled up on itself. We're enemies but also allies? How is that supposed to work? And it doesn't look like Wash is about to explain herself, because she's flipping through the pages on her clipboard and says, "Moving on to assignments for the week."

My heart dips. Right now I'm in a room of people who have it in for me and in a few seconds she's going to call out the name of one them that I'm expected to work with for the coming week. I can handle it. Working the truck for years, you end up on shift with people you can't stand, so you learn to suck it up and do the job. I can do that. Sucking it up is my thing. I'm here to focus on the work, and I can do that with any one of these people. Except Brook. As long as she doesn't-

"That leaves Soso and Vause, you're with me."

Motherfucker.

A week with Brook Soso in my face. I don't think my bullshit threshold can hold out that long. How am I supposed to do this? They want me to keep my head down and my nose clean, but then they throw Brook at me? FOR A WEEK?

But then something great happens. Brook's hand shoots up into the air and she says, "May I request a transfer?"

Yes. She should request it. She should work with someone who's not me.

"What did I just say about learning to work together?" Wash stands with her hands on her hips like a mother chastising her child.

"I just don't think, so soon after… it's probably not best if…"

The rest of her stumbling sentence is suddenly drowned out as our pagers start going off at the same time, filling the room with incessant beeping. The trauma gods have a gift for me. They've probably also messed up my only chance at getting rid of Brook, but hey, I'm all about the distraction. I need to bury myself in something so deep that it'll be impossible for me to look up and into the face of someone judging me.

"Okay surgeons, looks like we're heading to the trenches," Wash says, and rushes off without looking back.

The interns scurry after her like a swarm of rats, each as frantic as the next to get there first. I start running too, but Jefferson yells "Scrubs" over her shoulder before disappearing out the door, and I realize I still have to change. Fuck.

* * *

I know it's really short but I had to get this up to get the ball rolling. More to follow soon:)


	10. Chapter 10

Author's Note: Oh look! It's an update and it hasn't been a few years... :) I know they're short, but they're coming and that's what counts, right? Thanks to everyone who commented on the last chapter. Your enthusiasm for this story is the engine driving me along.

So this chapter is the bulk of what happened between our girls to get them where they are now. The next chapter will look at how it plays out:)

* * *

 **Chapter 10**

" _We have nothing but time." I kiss a soft smile onto her lips._

 _The longest breath in the history of breathing leaves my chest at the sound of the door snapping shut after Piper leaves. A breath of I-can't-believe-that-just-happened, and did-we-just-do-that?_ _The jelly in my knees starts to win out and I fall back onto the bunk, arms and legs spread like a starfish. Apparently sitting is a little too much to ask of my body right now. God, what the hell did she do to me?_ _A smile creeps onto my face as I realize the answers to those questions don't even matter. What matters now, is how long before she can do it to me again._

 _Piper… Doctor Chapman…_

 _I know I have to get back out there—I wasn't kidding about the charting waiting for me—but I can't go anywhere with what we did still written all over my face. The feel of her still bristling against my skin, so just thinking about touching her body makes me break out in a sweat. The things I need to do to that body…_

 _Loud static ruins the pocket of bliss I'm wrapped in, as the walkie Piper left behind comes to life._

Ten four, ten four, are my ears deceiving me, or was that Miss Goody Two Shoes being called to the principal's office?

 _It sounds like Bennett, and he's openly enjoying this little bit of information. Another crackle signals an incoming reply, and now there's laughter._

It's about time you people learn. _Can that be Fig?_

Learn what? _Bennett again._ And who's you people?

Hey guys… _This time I recognize the voice instantly—Mendez. I'm listening to the channel secured for the attendings. Eavesdropping, not listening. I shouldn't be hearing this. I should get back to work, so naturally I stay riveted to my spot on the bunk._ Some of us are trying to work, _Mendez continues_ , so can you save the bullshitting for the lounge later?

Hold up, I'm curious. What's Natalie talking about? _Bennett asks._

 _I nod my agreement with Doctor Pretty Boy. I'm curious too. What kind of trouble can Piper be in? We've been busting our asses all night, and I was with her for most of it. Nothing happened that could've set this off. I'm watching the abandoned walkie like it's a television set, waiting for it to go on with the show._

I'm talking about attendings getting into pants they have no business getting into, and then making life hard for everyone else who doesn't have that particular privilege. You can relate, right John? _Fig disappears with a static break, and I try to swallow, but have trouble getting around my heart that's in my throat._

 _Fuck. For the second time in the past two minutes I'm asking myself what the hell just happened, but in a totally different way. A holy-shit-this-can't-be-good kind of way…_

Uh, this isn't a closed channel you guys. _Another voice—female—but I can't make out who it is._

Screw the channel ( _Mendez),_ I wanna know who Chapman's been cheating on me with, _he ends with a chuckle._

 _Breathing is starting to suck, and my brain is working really hard to freak out, but I'm using all my energy to pick up the rest of the water cooler discussion going on. I don't want to miss any of it. The freak-out will have to wait._

I mean it, _the other female voice says._ Shut up about Piper. We all have more than enough work to do. _Harper. Has to be…_

Look _(Bennett),_ obviously the big deal is not Chapman getting reamed for fraternization—we all do it, and yeah I'm talking to you Figueroa. The big deal here, the shocker, is that Chapman even knows how to fraternize! _Now he's laughing too._

I'm bored _(Fig)_. You bore me _._ Shut up and get back to work.

 _Voices are still taking turns to say things between rips of static, but I don't hear any of it. I'm thinking about Piper making her way up to the Chief, with no clue about what she's walking into. And I'm thinking about what I'll be walking into once I leave this room…_

* * *

By the time I get to the trenches, the confusion of loud voices and authoritative instructions being yelled from every direction is like music to my ears. I'm dying to get into it. The incoming rush is over it seems, and everyone's got their hands on something that needs saving. Everyone except me. I scan the area for my attending, hoping to find her ankle deep in someone's blood. The perfect way to get this day going on a smoother track.

"Vause! Incoming!"

My attention snaps to the doors and I find Wash with Brook, already in their gowns and heading out. I break into a run to catch up, and when I step outside, it's at the same time as a truck rolls in. I make sure I'm right at the door when they offload.

"Head on collision becomes a pile-up," the EMT says. I recognize him from my old beat but say nothing as I fall in step beside him to take over the oxygen bag.

Brook and Wash have stationed themselves on the other side of the gurney and I can feel Brook's eyes on me, probably pissed that I get to bag and she doesn't, but I can't think about her now. The EMT starts rattling off the patient's stats as we roll inside.

"Unrestrained driver, hey Vause what's up, depressed skull fracture, texting behind the wheel what a jerk, distress to torso, digging your scrub game girl, call me…" he ends with a laugh and hangs back while we push the patient into the first available room.

"On my count!" Wash gives the order and several hands work to lift the stretcher from the gurney to the bed.

I'm still attached to the oxygen bag, while someone else, I'm not sure who, wheels the gurney back out to the EMT.

"I have to crack his chest," Wash says, and takes a pair of scissors to the guy's shirt, ripping it all the way up and through. "A little room, please!" This one's aimed at Laney. Laney? I hadn't noticed her til now. She jumps back, abandoning the IV she was about to set up.

"Hey Alex," she says with a nod when she sees me looking at her, and I'm still trying to decipher the look she's giving me when the bag I'm pumping feels like it's being tugged out of my hands.

"He's seizing!" My voice tears into the chaos around us. Laney's cryptic expressions fall to the back of my mind and my penlight is out and checking the patient's dilation without me even thinking about it. God I love this place.

"Back off," Wash says abruptly, and I stumble back to give her the room she's elbowing into.

"We need neuro in here… now." It feels like I'm out there, on the road, the way I call the instruction without hesitation. Taking charge even though I'm not the one in charge. Brook looks at me like I've lost it. Like who the hell am I to tell her what to do…

"Get Doctor Chapman!" And even with the fullness of the activity, machines and constant talking from both inside and outside the room, Wash's words echo. Since I'm not bagging anymore, I turn to carry out her order but her voice comes again and stops me dead in my tracks. "Not you. You." Her eyes move from me to Brook, who hands over her new spot at the bag to Laney before rushing out.

"Your assistance is no longer required here, Doctor Vause." Wash's words slice through my trauma-induced tunnel vision. "Go see if you can help out with one of the other cases."

"What?" The guy is still seizing on the bed and the clattering metal combined with all the other sounds gets jumbled with her words in my head.

"You don't need to be here for the rest of this," she says, as if she's explaining something to a child.

But I was at the drop. I get to follow the case. The rules say-

"What do we have?" Piper appears in a rush of cold air and sweet jasmine, and it's like everything else fades into the background.

She goes straight for the patient. The look she spares me is fleeting at best and once I catch Wash looking at me – looking at me and the way I'm looking at Piper – it hits home. I'm not needed here, because here is where Piper is. My teeth sink into the inside of my lip and I only let up once the metallic taste of blood fills my mouth. Is she for real? Kicking me off a case to keep me from working with Piper? As if I'm going to forget about the life we have to save and start fucking her in the middle of triage. The rush of adrenaline that's been pumping through me starts to cloud over with the beginnings of a seething anger.

"Alex, take over." Laney's voice comes to get me out of my head and I see her stepping back from the oxygen bag for me to take it.

"No need," Piper cuts in just as I'm about to rush over. "We have to get him to an OR. Move."

She and Wash start wheeling the patient out with Laney shuffling along, still attached to the bag. Brook and I follow closely behind, but once we hit the elevators, Wash turns to us, gives me the once over, and says, "You two sit this one out. Help out down here. I'll find you after the surgery." The elevator dings its arrival and we stand there like idiots, watching the attendings usher the patient inside.

The doors are just about closed when Brook turns on me. "This is all your fault," she hisses. Like a snake. Like a scaly, evil, reptile.

"Take a breath, Soso." I brush her off and start back into the trenches, back to see if I can find work for my idle hands while I make sense of what just happened.

But she's after me like a rabid dog. "I'm never going to see the inside of an OR as long as I'm with you," she says, and I have no choice but to stop and hear her out because people are starting to look and suddenly I'm thinking about this stupid review form and how I have to keep the negative shit people can say about me down to a minimum.

"I didn't make the call. It was the attending's decision to-"

"Are you blind or just stupid?" she cuts in, not even trying to keep her voice down.

"Excuse me?" Just when I thought she couldn't be any more annoying, she finds a new line to cross. A new low to reach. And she's chosen to reach it in the middle of the ER, which isn't exactly helping my rising temper.

"Wake up, Vause. We're not scrubbing in because they are going to make sure you're nowhere near Doctor Chapman until the check clears. It's so obvious they've all been briefed. As long as that money's not in the bank, there'll be no surgeries for us if she's there too."

So they all know. Well that's just great. "Do you have any idea how insane that sounds? This is a hospital, not a middle school playground." I hear myself making the argument, but the words are empty. Because I think she may be right. I'm slowly starting to grasp just how big of an asset Piper is to this place, and the lengths the Chief will go to protect that asset.

"Maybe so, but you're the one who started all this, walking around here like you're better than everyone else-"

"When have I ever-"

"-but now we all know how you did it. How you got the favor of one of the best attendings at this hospital."

"Shut up." I'm done. Enough. Fuck the form and fuck Brook Soso.

"It's probably how you get anyone's favor, am I right? How else is a blue collar going to make it?" A cruel smirk tilts the corner of her mouth as she says it. She's enjoying this.

My jaw starts to ache with the way I'm clenching, balled fists at my side. "I swear to god, Brook…" I don't even know how the words get out, I'm biting down so hard.

"You can rein it in," she says, standing down, obviously noticing the amount of restraint I'm calling on in this moment and deciding not to push me any further. "I've said my piece. I'm going to talk to Doctor Washington about reassigning me as soon as she gets out of surgery. And while I'm waiting for that to happen, I think I'll tell the other interns about the new pile of shit you've gift wrapped for them." She wheels around and walks away like nothing happened. Like she didn't just stand in the middle of a public space and rip me to shreds for everyone to see.

* * *

My original plan was to find another case to get in on, but after that ordeal the doors to the ER are beckoning me. I don't want to get in on anything. I just want out. The drop zone is silent aside from a lone truck idling lazily at the end of the bay. It's empty, which means the medics are probably still inside with their cargo. I take a deep breath. The air feels like a million needles are prickling my face, but instead of shrinking away from it, I lift my head to feel it even more. It feels good. Keeping me on the surface of my skin so I don't have to think too much about what's going on beneath it. I'm alone for the first time since Nicky cornered me in the bathroom earlier, and the quiet of post-trauma chaos fetches me in an instant. I'm not surprised that the place it pulls me to is the same place I've been going over and over in every spare second...

" _Alex, we need to talk."_

 _I walk over to her and snake my arms around her waist, pulling her so close against me I can feel her warmth soak through the thin fabric of my scrubs. "I have a better idea."_

 _She pulls away from me as I move in to kiss her. "I'm serious."_

" _So am I." But her face is still doing that tired looking thing, and not mirroring my smile at all. It makes me think that maybe this is serious. "What's going on?" She drops her eyes but can't go far because my arms are still holding onto her. "I mean, besides one of your pals ratting us out to Daddy Dearest which, if you ask me, I think was Fig."_

 _Her eyes find mine and they're full of startled concern. "What? How do you-"_

" _The attendings' channel, remember? You left your walkie in the call room." Her face scrunches up and she looks like she's in real, actual pain. "They were just fucking around. Enjoying the fact that Miss Goody Two Shoes has a dirty side." I squeeze down on the delicious flesh of her ass and dip my head to get a taste of her._

" _Stop." This time she uses force to pull out of my embrace entirely and now I'm really confused._

" _So they know. And they told on us. What's the big deal? You handled it right? Teacher's pet and all… I say we finish what we started. Charting can wait." I reach for her hand, but she's quick to start fixing her hair with it. Okay. I'm clearly on the wrong end of this thing. "What is it, Piper? What happened up there?"_

 _Her shoulders drop with the size of the sigh she lets out and she's looking at me like she's thinking of where to start. Eventually she does. "I can't remember a time when I didn't want to be a surgeon." Her voice is soft and melancholy, almost dreamy._

" _Whoa, we're starting at the very beginning? This must be serious." But this isn't the time to be making jokes. She doesn't find it amusing. And if she does, she's doing a great job of not showing it. I realize my mistake and make a mental note to quit with the wisecracks._

" _Alex… What I'm trying to say…" She falters off again, her eyes searching mine as if she's going to find her words hidden somewhere in them._

" _You're trying to say…" I help her along with a small smile, closing the space between us that she made before, but careful to not be too overbearing about it. I don't want her to have to push me away again. I don't like how that feels._

" _Look, I know how hard it was for me to get where I am today. And as hard as it was, I had it easy. Compared to what you must've been through to even get to med school, let alone this program."_

 _My face isn't smiling anymore. Because her face isn't supposed to look like that when she's looking at me. I swallow. "Piper, what did he say to you?"_

" _I'm just saying… We both have our careers that we worked really-"_

" _What did he say?" She's stalling, and it's making me edgy._

" _Alex…"_

" _Why won't you answer me?"_

" _Alex, I need this trial. Litchfield needs it." Finally. It comes out._

 _I can't stop the incredulous laugh that splits my chest. "This is about some clinical trial?"_

 _She takes it in her stride. Still calm. Still collected. It's that cold-hearted surgeon thing. Cutting yourself off to get the job done. I don't get why she's doing it with me though._

" _But for me to do the trial," she goes on, "I have to get the grant first."_

" _And he's holding that over your head unless you what? What did he say?"_

 _She's not looking at me anymore. Too busy playing with a piece of lint on her lab coat. When she speaks next, I can barely hear her. "The Chief has a lot of… sway… when it comes to the board and their decisions."_

 _The pieces finally start falling into place. I take another step back from her. I didn't want the space before but now I feel like it's the only thing that'll help. So even though everyone else gets to do who and whatever they want, Piper's different because she's the Chief's golden egg. His meal ticket. So he picks on the one thing he knows she'll never compromise and he uses it to make her do what he wants. She doesn't say anything anymore, but she doesn't need to. I get it. I understand completely. After all, I'm standing in front of a woman who walked away from a renowned surgeon she loved for the sake of her career. What chance do I have? I'm just an intern – definitely not renowned. And she doesn't love me._


	11. Chapter 11

Author's Note: Here's a quickie to start the weekend:) Thanks to all who've left comments. I love reading what you have to say, and I'm so glad you're all still enjoying this story that shouldn't have happened lol. You guys are the best. I'm halfway through the next chapter where we finally get a glimpse into what is happening with Piper, and also Vauseman! I will try to upload tomorrow or Sunday but if my weekend gets a little busy it will definitely be Monday:) Our girl Alex is really being pulled through the ringer and I'm sorry but it's drama, right? It will make it so much sweeter when she comes out the other side... trust me.

* * *

 **Chapter 11**

"Tequila gum?"

I jump at the sudden appearance of Nicky by my side. Her partner carries on pushing their gurney to the back of the truck that's been idling away at the end of the bay. Of all the EMTs in the city who could've been assigned to that truck, it had to have been her…

"It's a little early for me, thanks," I mutter.

"Hiding from Hot Nurse?" she says with a sly wink and slips the pack of gum back into her pocket. She's never been one to waste time with filler content – always going straight for the kill.

"Not hiding."

"So you're freezing your tits off for the hell of it? Yeah, I don't think so." And always ready to call me on my bullshit.

"I have work to do," I say dismissively, and turn to go back inside.

But she grabs a hold of my arm and stops me. "So? Did you fuck her or what?"

How is it that I haven't even had breakfast and this is already the day I'm having? All the pent up anger and frustration that's been simmering beneath the surface starts to spike, and you know what? Fuck it. Because if she insists on poking me for a reaction, then I'll give her one…

"Yeah I fucked her." Her eyes grow wide in surprise and her mouth drops open. "I fucked her so hard she wept. You happy?"

"No!" she balks without hesitation. "Fuck! What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Yo, Nichols!" her partner yells from the cab of the truck. The window's cracked and his lips are pressed almost right up to it.

"In a minute," she calls over her shoulder. My relief is short-lived. Of course she won't just leave me alone like this.

"I thought it's what you wanted," I say. "What you've been telling me to do, right? So I did it. Under rug swept and all that."

"Shit, Vause…" She's looking at me like I've spontaneously grown another head and her tone loses its volume, replacing it with a serious edge. "I only told you to do it because I knew you wouldn't."

"What?"

"I knew you wouldn't admit you've got a thing for Knox, and the only way to get you to stop messing around and go for it with her, was to push you into a corner."

"That doesn't make any sense."

"Sure it does. I put pressure on you to sleep with Hot Nurse, you find out that you can't do it, you do a little introspection about why that could be… and voila! You finally have to admit that I've been right all along. That you've got a bad case of the jones for Knox and you are so screwed," she finishes, looking like she's about to laugh, so proud of herself, but then her face drops. "Of course, I didn't think you'd actually do it. That kinda poses a problem for my hypothesis." I say nothing as I watch her thoughts play openly across her face. It's like I can hear the wheels turning in there. And then she looks at me, eyes narrow. I don't know what to do with that searching look and shift my weight uncomfortably from one foot to the other. "You fucking liar…" Her words come slow, just like the realization that is streaking across her features. "You didn't do shit, did you?" Now she really is laughing.

"Don't you have somewhere to be? Someone bleeding out in a gutter somewhere that needs your help?"

"I knew it!" She slaps my arm so hard it stings. "I should change my name to Almighty Oracle or something. Although I admit, you had me going there."

"I have to get back inside." I can handle subzero temperatures, even crazy interns with chips on their shoulders, but give me someone who knows me a little too well, sees a little too much… it sends me running.

"Wait wait wait…" Her words stop me again and I turn back to her. "What does this mean? You gonna go for it with Knox or what?"

I shake my head, taking a deep breath. It makes a white cloud in front of me when I let it back out. "There's nothing for me to go for. Please leave."

"But- you didn't do it."

"No, I couldn't sleep with her okay? So just let me go," I say in a hard whisper. We're getting closer to the doors and Nicky won't leave me alone.

"Then that means-"

I round on her just as the ER doors sigh open in front of us. "Nothing. It means nothing." She looks confused, like how am I not relieved that her plan worked? Now that I know for sure that Piper was more than a one-night stand, and I can move forward. I can barely look at her. "It's all fucked up, Nick," I say with a tired laugh. "Just… stop hounding me at work, okay? I have to go."

* * *

"Is Wash still in surgery?" I catch up with Jefferson, a little out of breath after running up a flight of stairs.

"Where'd you disappear to? Here, get these to Figueroa." She shoves a folder into my hands, apparently unconcerned about getting an answer to the question she just asked. "I was told to run them up, but now that you're back-"

"What do you mean, get them up to Fig?" My pace catches. Feet suddenly confused by the simple act of putting one in front of the other. But she's not stopping, so after a few seconds, I push myself to get over it and hurry to catch up with her again. "You mean Wash, right? I'm assigned to Washington this week."

"Maybe that's what you were, but it's not what you are," she replies matter-of-factly and I'm even more confused. "The Fig made our new mommy switch you out. Which you would've known if you hadn't bailed in the middle of intake." She slows down long enough to fix me with a scowl, but bailing on intake is last on my list of shit to be thinking about.

Fig requested that I be put on her service. Why? My first thought is that she wants to torture me with the case, but I scan the results in my hands and find nothing. It looks typical. No signs of excessive bodily fluids that'll need cleaning by me. So then "Did she say why? Why she wanted me?"

"Nope. Just that she's only got room for one first-year, and it has to be you." She finally stops walking to look at me with open suspicion. "All of us would kill to get into her OR, and here she is, insisting on the intern she supposedly can't stand… What's that about?"

"I don't know," I reply honestly, and a heavy stone sinks in my stomach. The person who so obviously outed me to the Chief wants me under her nose for the next week. Ulterior motives, anyone? One night only. Get 'em while they're hot.

With Jefferson leaving to get back to her own rounds, the trip up to Cardio is quiet enough for my mind to cause all kinds of chaos. What is Fig playing at? And how the hell am I gonna make it through this week, when keeping in line is suddenly the most important thing, and doing that with Fig over my shoulder? The most impossible thing…

"Do you get a kick out of being late, Doctor Vause?" Fig asks without looking up from the chart she's scribbling in.

Let the games begin.

I step into the ward, vaguely aware of the patient's attention on me as I hand over the test results I just got from Jefferson.

"Delay in the lab," I mutter under my breath.

Fig looks at me with a raised eyebrow as she takes the folder. She knows I'm talking out of my ass – that I wasn't anywhere close to the lab – but for some reason she lets it slide and jumps straight into formalities.

"Esther, this is Doctor Vause, the surgical intern on my service."

I nod a stiff greeting to the patient – Esther – who's studying me with a questioning look and then, remembering the form burning a hole in my pocket, the one with a block for Bedside Manner that needs to be ticked, I add a smile. I can tell by the awkward pull in my facial muscles that it's not coming out the way it's supposed to though, but that's it, that's all I've got.

"I thought you work alone," Esther says to Fig.

"Me too." It slips out of my mouth before I know it.

Fig takes it lightly enough, even giving a fake laugh that titters out of her. Figueroa. Tittering. I'm sure I took a wrong turn on my way here this morning and slipped through a wormhole into another dimension. A freaky tittering Fig dimension.

"Don't be silly, Esther," she says. And also, silly? The word sounds so wrong coming out of her mouth. So proper for such an improper she-beast. "Litchfield General is a teaching hospital, and we're proud of the opportunity we give up-and-coming interns."

I feel her looking at me, so turn from Esther to I can meet her gaze. And I hold it. If I get this first day off on the right foot – that foot being the one that tells Fig I won't be pushed around in a staring competition – then the rest of this week might not be so bad. She's the best in her field, after all. And I really can learn from her. She flashes a smile that could sell magazines. See? I'm learning already. That's how you Bedside Manner your way to a glowing peer review, doesn't matter if you have fangs hiding in there somewhere.

"Hopefully Doctor Vause will learn something of value after she's been my shadow for a week." She won't look away. She plans to win this one.

"I'm looking forward to it," I say, also not looking away, and try the smiling thing again for added effect. My face still feels strange doing it. Maybe I'm gonna need a few more years of practice before I'm as good as she is.

"Good," Fig says with another tittering laugh that breaks the eye contact. Ha. "Now to get you up to speed: a few months ago we discovered a small mass on Esther's heart."

I forget about her and her bullshit power play and turn my focus to the case. Patient. Esther. A gold cross hangs around her neck, resting on her standard issue Litch Gen gown. A quick scan of the room tells me all I need to know about this one. A heavy wooden cross on the wall behind her right shoulder, two bibles (for when one just isn't enough) are on the bedside table, along with a book of hymns.

"Unfortunately, it didn't stay small," Esther's voice breaks into my head and brings me back to the moment. "But I know I'm in good hands, both here and up there." She points a finger to the ceiling, but it's clear she means heaven.

Her good spirits in the wake of her condition checks me. There is such a thing as carrying your burdens with grace and humility. Oh god, is this why Fig wanted me on this case? So I can be sent on a guilt trip by the bride of Christ?

"With Type 2 Diabetes that's been really stubborn lately," Fig's going on, "Esther's what we call a high risk patient." No shit. "We've been monitoring her closely to find the perfect window to operate, when the chances of recovery are at their best."

"And the good Lord finally granted it to us. By his grace," Esther adds with a tired smile and bow of her head.

Oh man, this whole pious act is starting to feel a little hokey. Still, I know that kind of tiredness. It's not the kind that comes from lack of sleep. It's the kind that comes when a cellular mutation is trying to tear its way clean through your heart. And that's when it happens… My mind shifts from me and my problems, to Esther and the idea that in a few hours I'm going to be standing over her open chest, watching a Cardiogod save her life.

"Most recent films show the mass has increased in size, and with evidence of arrhythmia-"

"It's a sign the tumor could have perforated the pericardium," I finish Fig's sentence, and get a little kick out of the fact she looks a bit surprised.

She covers it up quickly and moves on. "That means we have less time than we thought." She's talking directly to Esther this time. "If we wait much longer, there won't be a heart for me to fix."

"I'm ready," Esther says with a vigorous nod. "I've been ready for weeks."

"But her bloods aren't clear." They both look at me. "And if those labs are anything to go by-"

"This isn't your call to make, Doctor Vause. Did you not hear the part of there not being any more time to wait?"

"If you give the meds more time to work, she'll stand a slim chance. Operate now and there'll be no chance at all."

Fig's eyes dart uncomfortably between me and Esther. I can tell she's fuming, but she's working really hard to hide it. Shit. I guess discussing the patient's chances of survival right in front of her wasn't a good idea. Way to go, Alex. Lessons in how not to Bedside Manner...

"Please excuse her," Fig says to Esther through tight lips and offers another smile, although I immediately notice this one isn't as dazzling as the ones that came before. I've obviously struck a nerve. "Doctor Vause used to be an EMT and it's made her an insufferable know-it-all with a complete ineptitude for human interaction."

Ouch. That one hurt just a little.

"Don't worry," Esther says, patting my hand gently. "I understand. We all have our lessons to learn." A patient comforting a surgeon. Now that's a first for me. "And I trust you," she says to Fig. "The Lord will guide the way."

"And with me holding the scalpel, you're going to get through it just fine." Of course Fig would have to assert her whole I'm-the-only-god-in-the-OR mentality. At least she does it in a roundabout way considering the current situation.

"That must've been hard for you," Esther is speaking to me now, her hand still on mine. "Unforgiving hours, little pay. I can't imagine what it took for you to get here. How hard you must've worked."

It's pity, and it's exactly what Piper said to me just days ago. The words and memory they're attached to form a dagger that rips right through my middle so I can't even enjoy the fact that Fig's little plan to make me look bad backfired. I didn't come here for sympathy. I didn't go through what I did so people can tilt their heads to the side and give me that 'poor Alex' look.

"Oh, Doctor Vause had it all under control, didn't you, Alex?" Fig's fixed me with a snide look that crawls down the back of my neck. "How to get into a prestigious surgical program, how to coast through it…"

"Oh, I doubt anyone can simply coast through-"

But she doesn't let Esther finish. "It's about who you know and how you use them. Isn't that right, Doctor Vause?" Shit. The woman's got a set of balls on her, I'll give her that. It's a tie. One point for me winning the favor of the patient despite Fig's efforts, and one to her for making me realize that yes, I can actually feel worse than I felt walking in here this morning. "But less chit-chatting and more saving of lives, what do you say?" Esther smiles at Fig's fake cheerfulness, falling for it hook, line and sinker. I know better. "Doctor Vause…"

Fig makes her way out of the ward and I know by her tone she means for me to follow. We meet in the doorway and I'm not sure I like being this close to that confident arrogance that radiates off her.

"An elevated count like hers could seriously complicate post-op recovery. A case like this requires days of close monitoring combined with controlled doses of-"

"Let me stop you there," she says, holding up her hand in front of my face. "I know what it is and what it requires. And this might come as a surprise to you, but I also know what I'm doing."

"I was only-"

"Sleeping with an attending doesn't make you one, Vause. Whatever privileges it may afford you, you're still just an intern." Well if ever you wanna shut me up, that's a good place to start. All my words are gone. My silence seems to give her a boost that pulls her lips into a cruel smirk. She's just scored another point and she knows it. "See that they start her on the meds immediately and I want new films in fifteen minutes."

I'm left to take a breath and check my ego in an empty doorway, with Esther eyeing me curiously and nothing but Fig's lab coat billowing out behind her as she makes her way down the hall.


	12. Chapter 12

Author's Note: Hi everyone! So the weekend turned out to be a lot busier than I thought, but just like I promised, here is the next chapter:) I reworked this one a bit after I realized there are some things I want to add. That means Vauseman has been carried over to the next chapter. Not long now! Huge thanks to all the guests who left comments on the last chapter, and a quick shout out to chocgirl, OITNBReader, lia, RJVause, dillydill11, Librarybook, ejm137, kirthika05, ne aldit, IShipVauseman, Peyton pierre, dali14, Icarriedawatermelon, ri09, Jonna66, Laylor x Vauseman, IloveSweden :) You guys rock!

Post Script: The line break in the middle is a change of POV to Piper:)

* * *

 **Chapter 12**

"Is this your idea of fifteen minutes?" Fig saunters into the room with her signature air of superiority and expensive perfume.

I snap the final film into place on the lightbox and turn to her. "You know the labs are backed up today."

"No excuse," she says, and comes forward to get a closer look, arms folded tightly across her chest. "What am I looking at?"

I know the right thing to do is answer the questions my attending asks. But it's been a long morning, and I've never really been good at doing right things according to other people's standards… "We are over capacity, under-staffed, and I'm pretty sure I just made a lifelong enemy of the guy in radiology to get you these. A little acknowledgement would be nice."

Her eyebrows shoot up as she considers me. "You mean a pat on the head every time you do something? You want me to throw little doggie biscuits for you to snap out of the air with that yapping jaw of yours?" I purse my lips. She rolls her eyes. The dance continues. "If you want nice, you're barking up the wrong attending."

"Whatever." I dismiss her and go back to the films in front of us. I think it's best if I just get used to the fact that she's never going to not be an unbearable bitch. "A2 and 3 shows the mass has significantly increased in size since her last scan, and over here on B4, you can clearly see it's already started perf-"

"You know," Fig interrupts, and when I look at her, I realize she hasn't been looking at the films at all, but has been standing here staring at me instead. "Your text book knowledge makes you look good and it'll get you far, but you are yet to learn the thing that'll get you through this program."

"And you're about to tell me what that thing is, right?" So full of it. So predictable.

"It's how to hold your tongue when you're supposed to." And the way she says it, the snark that curls her lips when she does, it pisses me off even more.

"Well maybe I'd do better at keeping my mouth shut if you quit goading me every chance you get." The words roll out of me despite what she just said, but I don't even care because it's like her face and that smirk awakens something in me that doesn't want to obey rules. "It's like you relish any opportunity to pick on me, or break me down or whatever, and if you don't get the opportunity – you create it. You want me to hold my tongue? Stop provoking me into using it."

The staredown begins, just like in the ward earlier. Only this time, I notice the smirk on her face slowly change. Her features shift from insulting and patronizing to… what is that? Satisfaction?

"I think I'm going to keep you," she says with an approving nod. "Now start again. And a little advice… if you use the correct terminology when we make you read these, it helps solidify the information in your head. Like studying on the job." I can't speak. She's helping? "Oh for god's sake don't look at me like that. It's just a tip. Use it, don't use it, I don't care. Again…"

"Uh, m-mediastinal tumor located on the…" I feel the battle rage inside me – to keep the words from coming out of my mouth that really have no place coming out, not to her. "Why'd you do it?" Her uncharacteristic niceness has created the perfect opening for me to get the question off my chest. She's either gonna claw my eyes out, or answer me. Either way, I know how to handle her so I'm good.

"Now? Here?"

"I just wanna know," I say with a shrug, and dig my hands into my pockets to keep them from fidgeting. I need her to see me playing this cool.

"Fine I'll play," she says eventually. "I told the Chief about you and Chapman because I like buttons and I like pushing them, and in case you haven't noticed… she has millions. Just begging for it. I couldn't resist."

"That's real mature."

"Don't give me that. I mean, she did collude with you to go against previously established orders to-"

"But he didn't have to know about us. You could've reported the incident without-"

"Could I have?" She cocks her head to the side, studying me with interest. "No seriously, I'm asking. With the little you know about me, and with what I've just told you about my penchant for buttons… do you honestly think I would've walked out of that office without letting that little nugget drop?" I take a breath. There are lines that can be crossed with her, I've found, but smashing her head into a lightbox might just be taking it too far. "Get over it," she says over my silent response. "Chapman's fine. The Chief's favorite shall live to die another day. And you – you're here to learn, so start again."

Topic closed. End of discussion. She gave me an honest answer even though she didn't need to, and I can respect that. So for the first time since I started at Litchfield – without a fight or back chat or stroppy attitude – I do as I'm told.

* * *

"Hey," Polly says as she falls in step beside me, and her timing, it immediately makes me think that this meeting didn't happen by chance. That she'd been camping out in this hallway waiting for me to get out of surgery. "How'd it go?

"Routine for me. Wash'll probably be in there for a while."

"So you won't be wanting these then?" She sticks out her hand to me, forcing me to slow down.

Skittles. It started out as a much-needed sugar rush after my first lengthy surgery years ago. Now it's my post-op ritual. And by the looks of it, her peace offering.

"No thanks." I keep my eyes straight ahead when I say it, but it's like I can hear her smile dropping next to me.

We walk in silence then, the candy rustling in the pocket of her lab coat with every step. In the general bustle of Litchfield, there's no reason I should be aware of this. But awkward silence doesn't happen between us ever, so I am. I'm so aware it muffles out everything else. The olive branch I didn't want to take, taunting me from inside her coat.

"What are you doing?" I ask eventually, pressing the button at the elevator that'll take me back to the sanctuary of the surgeon's lounge.

"I don't know, following you? You're not talking to me, it looks like you're going out of your way to avoid me, you won't eat the Skittles… All weekend you've been-"

"What do you want from me?" The elevator dings gratefully, and I step inside, punching 1 a little harder than is necessary.

"I want you to talk," Polly says, jumping through the shrinking gap as the doors close. "And I'll keep this up until it happens, so you can forget about-"

"Why'd you tell him?" I've been contemplating this moment for days, painfully analyzing exactly how it'll happen and what I'll say. How I'll ease into it, set up the right parameters. But inside the safety of the elevator, it's actually easy to just get to the point. "Why'd you tell the Chief about me and Alex?" I'm a little more specific since she looks like she doesn't have a clue about what I'm talking about.

"You and Alex? I didn't-"

"You can drop the act, Pol. Your name came up. I know you spoke to him."

"Yeah he asked me about her, but I never-"

"So what did you tell him then?"

"We talked about work, Piper. Just work, I swear."

The great thing about knowing someone so long you can read them like a book, is that you know instantly when they're lying. She isn't. My agitation starts to simmer down. It's still there, but not in the way that I feel like biting her head off.

"So all this is about Alex?" she asks in amazement. " _She's_ the reason you've been treating me like-"

"I haven't been treating you like anything. I just-" There's another ding and the doors slide open, stopping my words. Once I'm sure there's no-one standing there waiting to get on, I continue. "I just needed space." She follows me off the elevator and we walk slowly, in case the lounge we're heading to isn't empty. This conversation must be had, but we can't have it with an audience.

"Space? But I didn't do anything wrong."

"So you never told him about us, but whatever you said helped him make up his mind about her." I fix her with a knowing look. I can tell she knows what I'm thinking.

"I was honest. With him, with you… you know what I think of her and her methods. She's good, but she's not a good fit here."

We reach the door to the surgeon's lounge and I stop to look at her. "It wasn't your place. There was a chance I could've handled this. You know the Chief. I could've brought him around with the Alex thing if it was just me against Fig. But how do you think it felt for me to get in there and hear that I was up against you too?"

"Could've brought him around? Piper, what are you talking about? You barely know her."

The force I use to push through the door makes it swing wildly on its hinges, forcing Polly to grab it as she comes up behind me or risk being hit in the face. We're alone. I stand in the middle of the room and wait for her to quietly shut the door, as if that will make up for the way I just burst through it.

"It was unfair. You made her look like some kind of delinquent when you know… **you know** she's better than that." I notice my hand shaking as I point at her, and then I notice my whole body is actually shaking. So much for agitation simmering down…

"Piper, calm d-"

"What do you think Friday would've looked like if she weren't here? With most of our residents at the bio conference, half our nurses on time-keeping suspensions… She saved all of our asses in some way or another, and instead of standing up for her, you all rally to get her cut?"

"How was I supposed to know it was heading that way?!" Polly finally makes it away from the door, like my tirade of words were pinning her to it and now that I've stopped she can break free. "He didn't say anything about cutting her, just asked what I thought of her work. Which was so left-field and with everything else-"

"That's no excuse."

"I'm not saying it is. I'm saying I get called up out of nowhere, a hundred things going on at the same time, and then the Chief asking me what I think about a first year I don't even know? What am I supposed to do with that? I was hungry, and tired, and had at least four life or death beds on my watch! I didn't know what the fuck was going on in general, let alone the intricate details of what I was or wasn't allowed to say about your supposed one-night stand who you weren't even interested in the last time I checked, but who, apparently, you were willing to bring the Chief around for, I mean what is that about? She's nobody, but she has us standing here, yelling at each other in the middle of what should've been a coffee and a bagel! What did I miss, Piper? What the hell is going on with you?"

I take a step back and drop into the nearest chair after that punch to the gut. I think in some ways, a physical fight would've hurt a lot less. The truth is hard to hear, and when it comes from the only person in the world you implicitly trust it's even worse. I have no right to be mad at her. But I am mad, and it has to be directed somewhere. Polly, out of breath from the massive point she just made, comes to take the chair beside me and in that second I know who I'm mad at. Myself.

I'm the one who brought us to this point. The back and forth with Alex, one minute hating her and the next, wanting her more than I've wanted anything. How can I blame Polly for not knowing what was going on when I don't think _I_ even knew? Maybe I still don't.

"Sorry," I offer an apology that sounds kind of pathetic after all that.

"Sure," she accepts it easily, and I love her for it. "And hey, maybe this is for the best since your first instinct about her was right." I fix her with a questioning look. "What's that saying? When someone shows you who they are the first time, believe them?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Oh." She straightens in her chair, and now looks as confused as I feel. "I thought we were talking about Alex."

"We are. But what do you mean, my first instinct? What did she show me the first time?"

"Uh… that she was bad news?" she says, like it should be obvious to me. "Piper, she picked you up in a bar, lied to you about never seeing you again-"

"She didn't technically lie about that," I find myself covering for Alex and at the same time hating the direction this talk just took.

"Well, whatever, that night she showed you the kind of person she is and while you're here feeling bad for her and talking about going up against the Chief for her benefit, she's already moved on to her next victim."

Victim? A chill creeps up my spine, wraps around my neck, and settles in my chest. Heavy, like a block of ice. Is that what I was to Alex? That's not what it felt like.

 _I don't wanna be friends, Piper._

"What do you mean?" I ask softly, even though I don't want to know. I'm ready to end this conversation without ever knowing.

She's moved to the other end of the room to grab a coffee. Happy that things between us are okay again, talking like this is normal, the way we do… totally unaware that I'm definitely not okay and nothing is normal.

"Remember the rumors I told you about? Her and that nurse?" She turns, both her hands hugging the LGH mug, thin tendrils of steam playing over her face as she blows into it. I nod stiffly and she takes a sip. "Turns out they're not just rumors. I saw them come in together this morning."

I keep my composure. At least, I think I do. This is nothing. And even if it is. Me and Alex are supposed to be over. "So they arrived together. That doesn't mean-"

"Arrived together on the same bike together. In my book that _does_ mean…"

"Doctor Chapman?" I didn't even notice anyone come into the lounge, and now Two's standing in front of me. "The films you asked for." She places the white envelope on the table.

"Thanks." I swipe for them without looking up, grabbing the opportunity for a hasty exit. Polly's words are still bouncing around my head and I use all the strength I have to pretend I'm in my body, in this room, walking out, and not off somewhere else. Someplace where what she told me is a lie.

* * *

Post post script: I am having so much fun with the Alex/Fig dynamic. Natalie is such a great character to write for. Anyway, I just felt like sharing that:) New chapter should be up tomorrow!


	13. Chapter 13

Author's Note: I guess being bogged down with work was a good thing, because now I get to post this chapter as a huge Happy Birthday to **OzisOz** :) I hope you have an awesome day, and get some time to read this amidst all the festivities.

Thank you so so much to everyone who commented on the last chapter and to all the new favorites and follows. I'm so happy you're here:)

* * *

 **Chapter 13**

It was always medicine for me. Surgery. Where there's an answer to every question. Mostly. Someone has a problem, they come see me. I find it, cut it out, stitch them up, and give them the rest of their lives back. Over and over the conveyer of problems comes through my OR, and over and over I step up and do what has to be done. It's easy to see how eventually you reach the point where you feel like you've seen it all, like you know it all, have all the answers. Like there isn't a problem on this earth you can't cut through. Which is also why most surgeons suffer from extremely overblown egos, I guess. But the world has to keep its balance, and once in a while something comes along to remind you that you actually know nothing. Bursts into your life with questions you don't have answers to, creating problems you can't even begin to know how to fix. There's no textbook, so you can't study for it. There's no scalpel, so you can't cut. Which leaves you with what?

I stand with frozen feet and leaden legs at the open doorway, watching Fig and Alex go through the films in front of them. I hate this part. After leaving Polly in the surgeon's lounge, I was desperate to get back to where I was before the floor started spinning out under me. Clinical. Controlled. My patient's films came back with my answer – a bulging aneurysm that's sure to kill him if I don't act fast. Just the thing I need to sink my teeth into. To forget there's a world outside of surgery. A world with a girl who makes me feel things. Fucking feelings. What makes it worse is knowing that this thing affected me way worse than it did her. She's already found someone to drown her sorrows in. If she even had any sorrows. I'm starting to doubt it. My feet find some traction in all the spinning and I lunge…

"Good, I caught you." They both turn when I walk in, but I only acknowledge Fig. She's the one I've come to see anyway. And I'm good at ignoring interns. I used to be so good at it. I pull down their films and start sticking mine in place.

"Good morning to you too, and what do you think you're doing?" Fig grabs at the films I shove her way and tosses them on the table to her right.

"One second." I'm snapping the final two films in place, painfully aware of Alex behind me, of the way Fig is studying me. Probably enjoying the awkwardness I know I'm having trouble hiding.

"Nice try, Vause," she says after a while, and when I look around, Alex is all the way over by the door looking like a deer caught in headlights. "You're going to have to work on slinking out of a room unnoticed before you can officially add it to your resume."

"I was just-"

"Don't slink," Fig interrupts her. "It's pathetic. And we're not finished. Get back in here."

I've already turned my attention back to the films so I can't see Alex's face, but I hear the huff she gives and can only imagine the way she's glaring at Fig right now. Shuffling steps, and that warmth is behind my back again. It still smells like summer at the lake. God I hate this part.

"Have a look at this and tell me what you think." My voice starts out a little shaky but I'm getting there. Clinical. Controlled. I can do this.

"How nice. An inoperable brain lump," Fig says in a deadpan tone, utterly disinterested.

"It doesn't have to be."

"Yeah, no, I'm pretty sure the fatal aneurysm doesn't have a choice in its existence at this point, Chapman. It's not like it's going to turn into a butterfly the next time you run it through a scan."

This woman is excruciating to work with. But I weighed my odds, and she's the best chance I have. "I meant the part about it being inoperable."

She glances at the films and then over my shoulder, obviously at Alex, before fixing me with a smug look. "I don't do brains."

"I'm not asking you to," I fire back without pause. She's not going to bully me out of this one. This surgery is not only going to save this man, it's going to save me too. Get the old me back.

She narrows her eyes, considering me with a look that says she's thinking. Hard. Slowly I see something click behind her eyes. "Do you have the Chief's go-ahead? Have you ever done one before?" she asks, all that arrogance out of her tone.

"I wanted to speak with you before I ask him, and once. Well, I was there when Larry did it. But I-"

"No." And she adds a wave of her hand just to drive home her dismissal.

"It's his only chance."

"Not my problem." She shrugs and folds her arms across her chest, closing herself off to any kind of persuasion.

"What is it? What does she wanna do?" a husky voice speaks up from somewhere, and I realize I forgot about Alex for a minute. So it's not impossible, then. It can be done. I need this surgery to make that minute of forgetting stretch into a few hours and hopefully those few hours will snowball until I can work with her and not have to coax my brain to not think about her in any way other than as a colleague.

"You see that bulbous, will-definitely-explode-if-you-even-think-about-touching-it lump over there?" Fig points out the aneurysm and I feel Alex draw closer to get a better view of the film. My breathing deepens.

"I see it."

Her hands are in her pockets, which makes her elbows kind of stick out away from her body a little, which makes them kind of rub against me, the barely there contact shooting across the expanse of my skin in instant gooseflesh. I have to strain to keep my focus on the case. Fig's still going…

"Well, Walter Freeman over here wants to go ahead and cut it out."

"He'll be dead before you cinch the clip."

"Thank you!" Fig commends Alex's insight.

"There's a workaround," I say, refusing to back down.

"Are you not listening? Chapman, he'll bleed out on your table. There's no way-"

"He can't bleed if there's no blood."

Fig shakes her head. She's not having it. I can feel Alex's gaze shift between us like she's watching a game of tennis. Only, every time her eyes are on me I catch fire and don't breathe so good.

"The solution you're suggesting could end up killing him anyway," Fig says.

"Wait, what do you mean if there's no blood?" Alex sounds pretty baffled but I don't have time to break it down for her.

"And to top it all," Fig goes on, "it's a surgery you've never performed!"

"I can do it, I know I can. With you there to-"

"Can someone please tell me why this patient will have no blood?" Alex's frustration comes out and kills the rest of my sentence.

When is she ever going to learn to stop doing that? As if her mouth hasn't gotten her into enough trouble already…

Fig seems a lot less pissed off with her vocal freedom than I thought she'd be though, and answers her without even addressing the fact that she has no place in this conversation. A sudden feeling of something's not quite right here settles in my stomach.

"He won't bleed out because she wants me to stop his heart. No heart, no blood pumping, no exploding brain lumps."

Alex's face brightens as she catches on to what Fig's explaining. Her eyes look like a thousand tiny lights were set off in them. "A standstill?" she asks, half in awe, half unbelieving. "You wanna do a standstill?"

"This isn't your debate." I do Fig's job and dismiss her myself. I can't look directly into those fiery eyes just yet. "Natalie, if you would just look at his chart…"

"I said no." Fig holds my gaze, not moving to take the chart I'm holding out to her. God she's stubborn.

All right then. A tactical change seems to be in order. "I came to you first because you're the best. But I'm doing this with or without you. There's always Hamilton…" I see a shift in her eyes and know I've hit a nerve. The ego nerve. Good. It's the one I was aiming for.

She studies the films some more, her jaw tensing and relaxing as she thinks… I hope she's thinking what I think she's thinking…

"Hamilton," she scoffs, eyes still glued to the films. "He smells like overcooked spaghetti."

"So you'll do it?" I nudge gently.

"He bites his toenails, did you know that?" she asks, turning back to me eventually. I shake my head no, but I'm smiling. Allowing myself a premature celebration, because even though she hasn't technically said yes, I know it's coming. "Vause, I'm scheduling Esther's surgery for 11. Deal with pre-op. I'll come by in five to brief her." Alex nods and steps around her to get to the table where the other films lay scattered.

But I still don't have my Yes. "Natalie…" I call after her as she's making her way out.

"You get the Chief, you get me," she calls over her shoulder, and then she's gone.

"Could you…?"

I look over to Alex and she's pointing to the last of their films still in my hands from when I ripped them down. I hand it over to her, not sure what to say, a little caught off guard at how suddenly we got to being alone together. I like having time to break things down in my head before landing in situations like this. I had days to prep for my talk with Polly, a stairwell and two floors on my way over here to get Fig on board… Time. Time to dissect the problem, slice it out, and suture the wound. I watch the way she's trying to get the films back into the envelope. Her hands are shaking with the urgency she's putting on the task, her lips pulled into a tight line of concentration.

"So you can't even be in the same room with me now?" Some wounds don't heal that easily. Sutures don't always hold. One wrong move and you could rip the thing wide open.

"Just trying to follow the new rules," she mutters, not looking up at me, and her movements with the films become more agitated.

"New rules?"

She gives up. The half-stuffed envelope falls to her side and she glowers at me. "Yeah, you know, the ones with the forms, and throwing me out of triage as soon as you walk in… And most recently, the one that's gonna have me miss out on an epic surgery because god forbid I'm in the OR while you operate." If she could've screamed the words she would've, but she's keeping her voice low and it's straining with the effort it's taking for her to do it. I think this way is worse than screaming.

"Throwing you out of triage? What are you talking about?"

"Oh please, save me the doe-eyed innocence. Why can't I… get these stupid films…" She starts tugging and smashing at the envelope, and somehow I get the feeling all that anger isn't meant for the sheets in her hands. That she's imagining something else in them. Some _one_ else…

It's like her frustration is seeping out of her pores and escaping into the air around us, and through some magical osmosis is working its way into me. I shove my hands into the pockets of my lab coat and swallow hard. "Alex, nobody threw you out."

"No?" She looks up at me again, the films forgotten another time. "So Wash ordering me to go work on another case had nothing to do with you coming in there?"

Oh. I think I get it now. "When I came down there HR was doing rounds. If I saw them, I'm sure Wash did too."

"And if they see me near you, they go running to the Chief and you lose your trial. We can't have that."

"Because if they see you administering treatment before your six-month probation is over, you'll be suspended." She straightens at my response. The claws that were out before seem to slowly retract as I see her brain working over my words. "She was just looking out for you, not out to get you."

"Okay, so let's say that's the case…" She's not so mad anymore. Seeing her calming down is making me calm down. Magical osmosis. "Why didn't she just tell me to back off?"

"Right, because backing off is something you're so good at, aren't you?"

She nods her head once in silent acknowledgement. I know she won't argue that fact. I've seen her trauma-induced tunnel vision before. There's no stopping her once she's in that frame of mind.

"What about when you wheeled him up to theater? I can't touch him in there, and HR-"

"OR 4 is the smallest theater in here. There isn't even room for a full scrub team, let alone an audience of interns."

"But-"

"No, there are no buts. Not everything is about you, Alex."

And just like that, the tension between us gets pulled tight again, a lightning spark blazing green behind her glasses. Shit. Was it something I said?

"No, no of course not. How can it be? When everything's about _you_ …"

"What?" This turned on its head rather quickly…

"Chief's little princess, always getting whatever she wants."

"You're out of line."

"Anything you want, he'll let you have it. I guess I didn't fall into the category of things worth asking for," she ends with a bitter laugh, and I swear for a second I see that lightning in her eyes die down.

"Oh that's rich." I start working my way up to a level of indignation that can hold its own with her. "As if you care." Her features cloud over with a puzzled look, and right now I'm feeling rather generous, so I go ahead and explain myself. "You want to know why I didn't try to change his mind about you? Because I didn't think it was worth it. Picking up girls in bars, picking up scrub nurses in hospitals… It's all one and the same to you, isn't it? Party in Alex's pants – everyone's invited." She draws back as if I've just struck her. I feel like I did. I didn't mean to.

"I have to go." She strides out without looking back, leaving me with a lump in a brain that was supposed to make things better, and a lump in my throat that's saying yeah right Piper, never gonna happen.


	14. Chapter 14

Author's Note: *waves from behind episode 5.09* Hi all! So I'm not sure if you saw my message but I had been in hospital after a stupid accident really and that is why I couldn't get to updates like I have been before. It has been rough feeling well but finally I'm okay to write again. Of course this has been a priority hahaha. I'm sure you all have finished the new season but I still have the last four episodes to go. I'm excited because the next one I have to watch is Laura's directorial. I have to say, it was sad to find my doctor was no Alex Vause when I was in hospital. But then maybe I would never want to leave if that was the case. I'll play doctor with her forever;) But I'm drifting off the point. She has that effect on me. What I want to say is thank you to all who sent healing wishes my way. I felt them! And to everyone who has commented on the last chapter. I still can't believe this little fan fiction has come such a long way, and it's because of you guys. Thank you! I haven't written in a while, so there's story bursting out of me and I will try to go back to updating every other day or so. But for now, enjoy:)

* * *

 **Chapter 14**

My first pre-op. My first time at the right hand of a Cardiogod. The feeling should be bigger since I was convinced I wouldn't be seeing the inside of an OR for at least another couple of months. But it isn't. There's no feeling. Because walking up to the patient who should have my full attention, all I can think about is the fact that there are rumors about me and Laney circulating Litchfield. Worse than that – Piper believes them. Worse than that? I care. I know I shouldn't. I know it shouldn't matter to me either way what she thinks. But here I am. Cursing under my breath to an empty stairwell when the elevator is working perfectly fine. Because seriously? After what happened between us this past weekend, she finds it so easy to believe I just fell into bed with someone else? Well maybe next time Laney's around I won't be so guarded. Maybe next time she throws a painfully obvious hint, I'll take her up on it. Won't make a difference now anyway…

Esther's asleep when I walk in. I push everything else out of my head so I can go over the pre-op protocol. Like a reflex, focusing on the work takes away that tightness squeezing my chest. Gets my irritation with a certain neurosurgeon to fade into the background. Labs - already done, temp, pressure…

"Where's Doctor Figueroa?"

Esther's not asleep anymore, but staring at me. I must look like an idiot, standing in the middle of the room mumbling to myself.

"She'll be in to brief you on the surgery in a minute." I walk over to the bed and get her chart out. I don't care how good a surgeon Fig is, she could use some lessons on penmanship. I can barely make out her notes.

"I need to speak to her. It's urgent."

"Is everything okay?" And I mean to get a specific answer, because I can't make heads or tails of what Fig's written. I glance at the readings on the monitors. Everything seems normal.

"Just page her… please." That last word gets choked out, like she didn't really want to say it in the first place.

I notice she's fiddling with the tape holding the IV in place on her wrist. Clearly anxious. I put the chart down and move toward her. This is the part where I have to earn the tick in my Bedside Manner box, I guess. For some reason my mind goes to the station rec room where we used to hang out between calls, and I feel a pang in my chest. Like when you miss someone.

"Look," I'm using the tone I've heard Nick use sometimes when she talks to our neighbor's cat. I can't say I've ever sounded like this before now. "You're in good hands with Doctor Figueroa." The blood pressure cuff is hanging over a hook on the side of one of the monitors. I pick it up. "I just have to do a few checks before you-"

"No." She actually flinches away from me as I move to take her arm. The cuff hangs stupidly in midair between us, just like my confusion.

"If you just-"

"Don't touch me." This time her voice is harder, even though she still doesn't look at me.

In the back of a truck, what I would've done next wouldn't be a question. I've physically manhandled patients to get the job done. Hurt them to save them. Wrestling a religious fanatic with a weak heart to get her blood pressure reading is really no big deal for me. But I'm not in the back of a truck anymore. And what I do next is either going to save my service with Fig or seal its fate as dead on arrival. No extensive measures to be taken. Do not resuscitate. God, things are so much simpler out there than in here.

"Look," Second time I say the word in as many minutes, but I'm not using that useless cute talking-to-the-neighbor's-cat tone. I feel better playing this as myself. "I was told to run the-"

"I'm the patient, so I'm in charge, and I don't want to deal with you."

"Well, you don't have a choice. I'm who you deal with." Fuck the forms. I lean over to attach the blood pressure cuff.

"No." She starts wriggling, and my hands clutch wildly at the shifting cuff. "Don't. touch. me," she says through clenched teeth, and with one hard pull to get out of my grip. What the hell did I miss here?

Sudden movement behind me gets my attention and I turn to see Fig breeze in. With the whole gang of interns following closely. They spread out behind her, pens poised over notebooks, all waiting expectantly. Just what I need now – an audience whose main goal in life is to see me nosedive.

"What did I tell you about feeling up the patients?" Fig says as a joke, obviously having heard the last of Esther's words, but she doesn't wait for it to go over and moves on with business as usual. "I thought it would be a good idea to present your case to the rest of our interns," Fig says to her. "I'm sure you don't mind?"

"Of course not," Esther replies in a voice that is suddenly back to the soft, kind patient of earlier this morning. I can't help but do a double take. How many wormholes are in this hospital and why do I keep falling through them?

"Good. You may proceed, Doctor Vause."

"Actually…" Esther pipes up, making the start of my presentation speech get stuck in my throat. Everyone's looking at her, but where before she couldn't even lift her head to me, she's quite comfortable keeping the gaze of what looks like a mildly irritated Fig.

"I'm listening," Fig says to push her along.

"I want someone else. Another intern. I want that one taken off my case." _That one_. She acknowledges me with a negligent wave of her hand.

Now Fig's looking at me all accusatory, like "I ask you to do one thing…" and my mind is racing, because I have no idea what's going on. Somewhere in the room is the sound of muffled sniggers. Some of my colleagues seem to be enjoying this. When I look over, I'm surprised to see Brook isn't one of them. Brook not taking the chance to have a good old laugh at my expense? Definitely a wormhole.

"You're not happy with Doctor Vause?" Fig asks her.

Esther shakes her head so hard it looks like it'll snap off.

"What's to be unhappy about?" That tightness around my chest, that anger that was fading away… it's back. "I haven't even touched her!"

"Alex," Fig holds her finger up to shush me without taking her eyes off the patient in front of her. I do as I'm told. "Can you tell me what the problem is specifically?" she asks Esther.

"I met with my church leader before I came in."

"Oh, there's a backstory." Fig folds her arms across her chest and rests against the bed like she's getting comfortable.

"He prayed with me for hours. I've been cleansed," Esther says with a tremble in her voice. Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to a whole other kind of crazy. "I don't want her anywhere near me in my condition," Esther goes on. "Give me an intern who actually followed the right path with hard work and dedication to get here."

"As opposed to…?" Fig leads the question and then pauses.

"As opposed to that adulterous whore who fornicated her way in."

"Excuse me?"

"Alex." I get the forefinger again. And again, Fig's not even looking at me. "Quiet," she says over her shoulder and instantly the loud gasps and murmurs from my fellow interns stop. "Fornicated..." she says thoughtfully. "You know, I don't hear that word nearly enough. It needs a comeback. Tell me Esther, how many Hail Mary's did that cost you?" I feel my jaw dropping and when I glance over to Esther, I see hers has done the same. Fig goes on though. She couldn't give a fuck. "What would your church leader say?"

Esther brushes off the comments like it's nothing. Her one-track mind still charging full steam ahead. "I heard you before, you know. What you said about her and one of the attendings?... I don't want that filth near me."

Fig straightens, unfolds her arms to shove her hands into the pockets of her coat, and studies me like she's thinking hard. I've got nothing. I'm rooted to the spot with no words to say. So I wait. Eventually Fig takes a deep breath and lets it out.

"Okay," she says to Esther.

Okay? Okay? So fine, I don't have a clue about how to defend myself here, but she's the boss. She's my mentor! Surely she should have some kind of process or procedure or… my back. That's what she's supposed to have. Right? Or maybe that's not how things work in here. It's like I can physically feel this surgery slipping through my fingers. I shove my hands in my pockets too so I can hide the fists I'm making to make the feeling stop. Fuck.

"Thank you," Esther says. "I knew you'd understand."

"Doctor Vause." All of a sudden Fig's tone is painfully professional. Cold and distant. She's going to rip me to shreds. In front of a patient, in front of my peers… "Please go to the desk nurse and have her bring up a list of Cardiothoracic surgeons practicing at Panorama and surrounds. Tell her the patient wishes to change her doctor."

"What?"

"What?" Esther echoes me. "I don't want to change my doctor. You're the one I want to do the surgery."

"I'm confused," Fig says. "And now you look confused too." She goes to sit on the edge of the bed next to Esther's feet, and I don't know her that long, but I know the expression she's wearing. It's not me she's about to rip to shreds. Surely this can't be allowed? Not with a patient… "Earlier this morning I explained to you that Doctor Vause will be my shadow for the week." Esther looks like a sulky five-year-old.

There's a flutter of something in my chest and I'm gripped by this thing unfolding in front of me. I can feel the tension in the room ramped up by everyone else feeling the same.

Fig continues. "I don't know how physics works for you people, but shadows can't be detached. She goes where I go. And if you don't want her, that means-"

"That's not what I-"

"Let me finish." Now Fig's holding the forefinger up to Esther. It has the same effect it had on me. God this woman's good. "Doctor Vause is arrogant, mouthy, an insufferable know-it-all…" Wait what? What the hell is she-? "…she's brazen, aloof, has no bedside manner…" My teeth clamp the inside of my cheek. How can one woman make me feel such a mess of things all at the same time? "…she talks too fast, thinks she's smarter than everyone else, acts entitled..." She looks at me, daring me to open my mouth but I know if I do, I'll only prove her right. So I don't. I just bite down harder. The corner of her mouth tilts up with a ghost of a smirk and she turns her attention back to Esther, who's been sitting quietly this whole time. "And me?" Fig says, her voice bright. "I'm arrogant, mouthy, an insufferable know-it-all." Wait… WHAT? "I'm brazen, known to be aloof at times, my bedside manner is fake. I talk too fast, I _know_ I'm smarter than everyone, and I'm entitled because I worked my ass off to get where I am today. And Esther, you picked me. Out of all the surgeons you could call on to save your life… you picked me. Because…?"

Esther drops her head, fiddling with the tape on her wrist again, and mumbles, "Because you're the best."

"Exactly," Fig says, in the way a teacher might say it when a student finally gets the right answer to a problem she's been struggling with for much too long. "You will trust me to crack open your chest and slice into your heart, but you won't trust that I will choose the best team to be around me when that happens?" Esther doesn't say anything. "Do you trust me?" She nods. "Good." Fig pushes up from the bed with an air of victory. "Is there something else you wanted to say?"

She looks up at her and shakes her head. "No."

Fig cocks her head to the side, like she's indulging her. "I think there _is_ one other thing you wanted to say, Esther."

It hangs in the air between them and after a moment, Esther looks at me. "I'm sorry," she says quickly before looking down at her hands again.

I acknowledge her with a stiff nod. I was wrong before. Fig isn't good. She's god.

"Doctor Vause," Fig's voice owns the room and I snap to attention. "Go ahead and finish your prep. Page me when it's over."

"Yes, Doctor," is all I can manage.

"What are you all doing standing around? Don't you have work to do?" Fig says as she pushes through the group at the door before disappearing down the hall.

My ears are burning under the stares I know I'm getting from the other interns as they slowly file out of the ward, but I use the blood pressure that I finally get to take as a way to avoid looking at them. That was huge. That was unexpected and awesome and so huge. My hands are shaking. I can't stop the smile that's spreading on my face and I don't even care, because I just got a public nod of approval from a Cardiogod and maybe being in here isn't so bad. I definitely could never feel all of this in the back of a truck.

* * *

So... no Vauseman, and actually very little Vause, but this chapter is what sets all the good stuff in motion. Stick around. Next we get to see Vauseman in surgery together. With Fig;)


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

Something happens when a surgeon starts charting at the nurse's station in the ER. Everyone around said surgeon is suddenly overcome with an overpowering urge to interrupt. Whether they have a good reason to or not. It's like a bright neon sign starts to flicker above you – 'Surgeon unavailable. Please approach.' As if it isn't hard enough staying focused on the most monotonous part of medicine known to mankind. And yes, my interns should be doing this. I could've been saved the whole spiel if I'd just let them. But I told them no. Told them to take the lull in the trenches and practice their triage skills without the whole impending death scenario that comes with an emergency trauma. They saw it as me being a great mentor, but really I was just trying to be alone. The bubble of regret that's been hanging heavy in my chest starts to slowly expand and squeeze my lungs. She hates me...

"I'm just saying-" Cindy is saying. She's been saying things for three minutes straight, apparently not bothered by the fact that I haven't given any indication that I'm even listening. "-it goes both ways. The worst kind of system is the system that thinks it's doing everything right." My pen creaks under my tightening grip as I continue with the chart in front of me. Three down, eternity to go. Eternity with Cindy as background. Is it possible I'm actually hoping for a trauma to roll in right about now? "What do _you_ think, Doc? I mean, how are we as nurses supposed to deal with that?"

And there it is. The pause that I've been dreading. The moment the conversation stops being a one-way street, and I'm expected to say something insightful, as if I care. I stop my pen scrawling across the page and finally look up. I always do the right thing. Make the right decisions.

I don't even feel bad when I reply with "It's your problem, not mine," and move myself a little way down the station to increase the distance between us. Because Alex hates me.

If she didn't before, out little confrontation in films certainly made sure of it now and I don't know what the right thing is anymore.

I carry on pretending with the chart even though my head is elsewhere and I hear Cindy move on with a huff as she starts shuffling around with folders. "Doctor Chapman-" A grunt. "Not now." Scurrying footsteps marks the tiles with light squeaks. The right thing… It's definitely not hooking up with a stranger in a bar for a one-night stand. Or then going on to maybe start to feel something more than passing lust for that stranger. The words in front of me swim together in a blur. Apparently it's not even sacrificing that feeling so she could keep her spot in the program. Letting her think I had my own selfish agenda because then it would be easy for her to stay away. "Doctor Chapman, do you have a minute?" Another grunt. "Go away." I swear I can physically feel the unimpressed look that must be on Two's face. But I still don't look up, and after a few seconds she disappears too. Stay away, sure. Temporarily. But I never meant for Alex to hate me. Ugh, I'm not sure I even know what I meant. What I was thinking. That things would cool down, she'd be off Caputo's radar, have time to earn her place here, and maybe then… maybe we could have-

"Hey, Chapman, I need a neural consult in bed 2," John says, sliding the patient's chart over to me.

Suddenly being pulled out of my head and back into the glaring fluorescent lights of the trenches hits me hard and I stare down at the new chart in front of me without really seeing anything for a few seconds. This is the hardest part. Having to work and be okay when I'm the opposite.

"Donald McGrath? Are you kidding me?"

"What? He's sick," John insists, even though he knows full well what we're dealing with.

"He's in here for a prescription. I'm not touching it." I slide the chart back over to him. "Discharge him."

"Can't," he says simply, and slowly edges it back my way in the most passive-aggressive power play I've seen in a while. "Dizziness, headaches, acute nausea… Could be a tumor."

"It's a list of symptoms he's memorized so he can get high for free. You know it's not a tumor. You know him." Seriously? I'm not in the mood to get stuck with an under-insured drug addict during the rare quiet time in the trauma rotation I already hate.

"What I know is hospital policy requires a neural consult. I also know you're not in a position to break policy right now." He taps the chart with his forefinger, an infuriating smirk curling the corners of his mouth.

"I hate you."

"You're welcome," he says with a laugh, and walks off.

The privacy curtains are drawn around Don McFaker's bed and I've just got my hand on it when

"Doctor Chapman?"

I freeze. That voice. The heavy squeezing around my lungs falls away as my chest bursts open, heart pounding like it's just learned how to work and is really eager to make a good impression. I have to stop myself from groaning out loud. For all my skill in blocking people out, why do I fail so miserably when it comes to-

"Do you have a minute?"

No, Alex. I have no minutes.

But I drop the curtain and turn around, saying "What do you need?" instead, praying that the straight face I'm commanding from my brain is actually there.

Her straight face looks pretty good. It looks like she's an intern and I'm an attending and nothing at all ever happened between us that would suggest we were ever anything more to each other. Shit. I should apologize. I feel like that's the right thing to do. But we've been over me getting right things consistently wrong lately…

"We're about to head in to surgery and-"

"We? So you're scrubbing in? That's great!" Really Piper? Is it great? So great you had to go up an octave to drive home your awkwardness and how much effort it's taking for you to just be cool right now?

"Uh, yes… and also yes, it's pretty awesome," she says with a half-smile, otherwise known as How You Actually Play It Cool. Take a note, Piper. "Anyway, Fig sent me to find out about the stand-still. I think it's just another way for her to mess with me since she could've asked you herself. Or sent someone else. But here we are." Her voice trails away at the end. The only sign that maybe this isn't easy for her either. And yes, it would be classic Fig to create a situation like this. She probably has a spy keeping watch so they can report back on everything. "So… the surgery…?"

Have I just been standing here with a stupid look on my face? How long of a pause was that? Shit. "Oh, right, sure, yes."

"Ohrightsureyes what?" She shifts her weight from one foot to the other and the movement sends the air around her wafting over to me and I remember with a clarity that is the worst kind of punishment, the smell I get when I press my face into her neck and also that she hates me.

"I mean I got the green light. We're good to go." I dig my hands that have started to tremble into the pockets of my lab coat. The flash jerk of the action unhinges my stethoscope a little and I feel it start to slide around my neck. "I haven't written it up yet, but it'll be on the board as soon as I-" Her hands are there before I can react. Touching me. Well, my stethoscope. It still gets every hair on my body to stand on end and my heart that was pounding is practically breaking out of my chest. When I look up it's into eyes that aren't mad, as she rights the instrument around my neck. I swallow. "Tell her- tell her the Chief said yes." Balance has been restored, and yet her touch lingers. "Also…sorry." I lose her hands. My over-anxious heart drops to somewhere between my diaphragm and stomach.

She takes a step back to regain her professionally safe distance. "You want me to tell her you're sorry?"

I shake my head slowly, swallow again. "I'm telling you… I'm saying it to you." A frown flashes across her face for a second but then it's gone. There's a wall in her eyes now. I liked them better the other way. "For before. For what I said to you. I'm sorry."

"Good." She folds her arms over her chest and stubbornly sticks her chin out. A reinforcement to the wall. I get the message.

"I mean, you're obviously free to do whatever you want, and I had no right to-"

"You're unbelievable," she cuts me off with a bitter laugh. "You've been here longer than I have. You know what this place is like. There's always some story floating around, getting everyone's attention."

"I just-"

"The Chief and his nipple issue," she interrupts me again, working to keep her voice down. "Bayley's mom who breastfeeds him on Sundays… you know better than to fall for-"

"Chapman sleeping with Vause." My jaw is so tight, the words hurt when they come out, but they get her to shut up. "Sometimes they're not just stories, Alex. You can't blame me for thinking it was true."

"If you had asked I would've told you it wasn't." She sure has a knack for wrapping up her words into a neat right hook and then knocking me clean across the face with it.

"But-"

"We hung out a few times. Nothing happened," she ends softly. The fight in her simmering down.

I feel like there should be more. Like there's more she's not saying. I want it to be something along the lines of '…nothing happened because it's you I want, Piper, no-one else…' but I know hopes and life rarely match up and it's probably something like '…I haven't fucked her yet because it's only been two days and I've been swamped with work but you bet your ass I'll be taking her home tonight to give it to her good and solid.'

"Shut up."

"What?" She looks at me genuinely confused.

"Nothing… not you… I was… talking to the voice in my head." The last of my words come out in a slow, deflating breath.

She chuckles softly. "What was it saying?"

How am I supposed to formulate any kind of coherent thought with her looking at me like that? I can feel the air between us is well on its way to being cleared. I can feel things starting to be okay. I'm feeling all kinds of things. And even though it goes against everything I said before and everything that is considered 'the right thing'… I want her to touch me again.

"Nothing. It's stupid," I say, suddenly embarrassed by my internal monologue. I shrug as I release my hands from their pocket prison. I shrug pretty hard actually, but my stupid stethoscope doesn't budge. There goes that plan, I guess. So much for tricking her into laying hands on me. I take a breath that I hope is laced with a large dose of steady voice and confident smile. "Listen, if you're not doing anyth-"

"Doctor Chapman, Doctor Vause." Laney – who came out of nowhere fuck my life – sidles up to Alex, and the way she said Vause, contrastingly different to the formality with which she said my name, like she knows a secret nobody else does, it kills what I was about to say and wipes the smile I was using to say it right off my face. The way her arm is lightly brushing the arm that was lightly brushing mine in films not too long ago kills everything else.

"Hey," Alex says, taking back her personal space with a little step to the side. I don't know if that little move was for my benefit or hers. I can't say I care, as long as the closeness is done with.

"Big day, huh? Everyone's talking about the stand-still," Laney says. "It'll be my first one."

Wow, news really does travel fast. "I haven't assembled my team yet," I say, and my voice is deliberately hard. A full stop to whatever hopes she might've had to being there. I can tell Alex is tensed up, maybe even a little awkward. But this is my surgery, so I decide the scrub team. And if Laney thinks I'm going to-

"Well OR 1 is my theater," she says, a little smug. "It's your best option for this kind of surgery. You're going to need a pretty big team, and I'm sure you'll have a captive audience too. No other OR has a gallery big enough."

Shit. Fuck. She's right. As head theater nurse, OR 1 is her domain. I'll be playing in her territory, so I have no say in the matter. My power extends to everything else, but not the lead scrub nurse. She comes pre-installed. So like I said… Shit. And also Fuck.

"And about your scrub team," Laney says, "I'll need that list before lunch. Admin – you know how it goes," she ends with a laugh that would make any onlooker think we're old work buddies having a fat old chat. I wonder what her eyeballs would look like on a skewer.

"Sure, whatever you need. Is there anything else?"

She shakes her head, no. "I was picking up the latest schedules from Cinds-" She says Cinds. God help me. "-and saw you," she says to Alex, who glances at me the second I launch into an eye roll of epic proportions. Talk about timing. Thank goodness Laney's too busy fawning over her to pay me any attention.

Alex tries to hide a smile and I don't know why but now I'm trying to hide one too. Maybe it's because we both had the same thought, and looking at each other, instantly knew it. Maybe it's because we can do things like know what the other is thinking and here's Laney who thinks she's the one with a secret...

"-and when I saw you over here…" She's still talking? "…I thought I'd come over, since I'll be tied up in surgeries most of the day, to wish you luck on your first big one."

Tied up in surgeries? She's a nurse! The incredulity must be plain on my face because Alex quickly looks away and dips her head – so obviously stifling a laugh. Compared to what I was feeling at that nurse's station a few minutes ago, having her attention even though she's supposed to be in a conversation with someone else makes me feel like I'm on a cloud. The nurse with a surgeon complex is still going on – I only know this by the movement of her hands in my peripheral vision. The rest of my vision is locked on Alex. Locked on the silent communication that's suddenly sprung up between us. And all the time Laney is reading her reactions as stealth flirting, judging by the way she herself is trying hard to stealth flirt back. No really God, help me.

"So do you have a second before you scrub in? There's something I need to tell you. In private."

And that's enough to stop Laney being nothing more than a periphery. I can tell by the look on Alex's face and the way her body tenses up again that it's caught her just as much off guard. I know the feeling, Al. She has you here, shamelessly making a flirting fool of herself. What does she need privacy for? What gets done in private that can't be done right here? I want Alex to say words that'll make it okay to breathe again. But the curtain around McFaker's bed is suddenly pulled open – from the inside – to reveal a wide-eyed Two. And that's the thing that gets me breathing again.

"Something's wrong," she says, sparing a quick glance for Alex before stepping aside for me to get to the patient.

She was here the whole time? Within earshot of everything Alex and I was saying? But one look at McFaker instantly tells me this isn't like all the other times he's come in here with a stupid complaint, and the world finds its balance. Personal shit at the door, Chapman. You're here to work.

The monitor is going crazy. I press my stethoscope to his chest. "Uneven breath sounds."

"His fever spiked a few minutes ago," Two says.

"Why the hell didn't you come get me then? Jesus, O2 Sat's below 20. What the hell were you doing?" I don't know what I'm angrier about – the fact that she didn't come get me sooner, or that when I dare to glimpse over my shoulder, it's to see Alex following Laney across the ER. To somewhere private, no doubt.

"I wasn't doing anything!" Two's voice rises up over the monitor and checks me. "Doctor Bennett said he comes in all the time. He said there's nothing wrong and I should wait for you to discharge him."

"A drop in vitals means something _is_ wrong, Doctor. His lung's collapsed. Get that chest tube tray." She wheels around to grab for the equipment and I take the moment to look back again. In time to see a flash of a messy black bun and light blue scrubs disappear behind the door leading to the stairwell. Great.

"I thought he was sleeping," she stammers, shaking her head. "He looked like he was sleeping." I've seen a face like hers a hundred times – intern in crisis mode.

"He wasn't sleeping, he was bottoming out. And you let him." The scalpel makes an easy incision and I lead the tube, waiting… waiting… His breathing stats go up, but something's still not right. "He's tachy." I replace the stethoscope around my neck and grab my penlight to check his eyes. "Pupils are shot. Jesus."

"What? What does that mean?"

"It means he's bleeding into his brain! It means you should've come get me!"

"I did come get you!" She matches me easily in tone and consternation. "You told me to go away! So I left!"

"You asked if I had a minute!" Shit. This is my fuck-up. "If a patient is crashing – that's what you open with!" The monitor goes crazy for a second and then flatlines. "Fuck." The crash cart rattles as I pull it over, powering it up and swiping for the paddles in one fluid motion. "Get his gown for god's sake!"

Two, who's been standing frozen wringing her hands, suddenly jumps and pulls his gown open to reveal his bare chest. "I didn't know," she says.

"Clear!" I touch the paddles to his chest and feel his limp body jolt beneath my hands.

Flatline.

"Charging 250." I almost feel bad for her.

"Doctor Bennett made it sound like there was nothing wrong. He said-"

"Clear!" But she should've known better. You can't say it's nothing until you've ruled out all the somethings. Shit… this isn't her fault.

Flatline.

"I'm sorry. I fucked up." She looks like she's about to cry.

"Charging 300. This is my fuck-up." She tears her eyes from McFaker to look at me, something like relief at being told this isn't her fault. "I should've been here to rule out that it was nothing. Clear." I administer the shock with a sense of procedure – going through the motions to tick all the boxes but knowing the patient is gone so there's no urgency and they're in a stairwell. They're private. And I didn't see Alex putting up any kind of resistance. Nothing happened my ass.

"Asystole," Jefferson says so softly I can barely hear her over the incessant unbroken beep from the monitor that tells us his heart is still not beating.

"What the hell?" John. The commotion must've finally gotten his attention.

His appearance kicks me into gear and I let up the brakes on the gurney before clambering onto it to start compressions. "I need to get him to an OR. Bag him!" Jefferson follows through – her shaking hands a thing of the past as she attaches the oxygen bag, pumping in rhythm to my downward thrusts.

"There's nothing we can do," she says, as we start to move. "Even if you get him back… he'll be braindead."

"Not until I say so," I say, my voice pinched with the exertion it's taking me to plow away at McFaker's bulk.

Bennett is calling out all kinds of commands, likely to clear the way as he rushes us over to the elevator. The sensation of being pulled backwards makes my stomach tilt but I don't let up.

"Is that Donnie?" Cindy asks as we pass her station. "I'll call it up."

Residents and nurses who were milling around the quiet of the trenches are all watching our progress too, expressions of disbelief on their faces. They know Don. We all do. This isn't supposed to be him. He's supposed to be nothing more than a passing mention in conversation after a shift. Crazy Donnie was in today trying his luck again. McFaker The Homeless looking to score. I refuse to start my day with his death. I refuse his death with every compression. Jefferson is solid beside me – timing, intensity, all of it. One of the good ones. I won't forget her name now. And when this is over, I'll remind her she did nothing wrong. I won't be the one who breaks her so soon in the game. I feel a lurch as Bennett lets go of the gurney and we start to free roll the rest of the way to the elevator where he's already pounding the button urgently.

"What the hell happened?" He finally gets to repeat his question from before as we reach the point he's standing. Jefferson doesn't take her eyes off the unresponsive face under me. I don't say anything either, my locked elbows starting to smart from the excessive strain. "Jesus, Chapman, you'll be going in blind," he says then. "I didn't run any tests. I thought-"

A loud ding behind me cuts him off and my stomach tilts again as the gurney pitches back, wheels clattering, frame jostling as he and Jefferson guide it into the empty box.

He's right – I'm going in blind. So far I have a suspicion of a herniated aneurysm. I can't be alone in that OR. Bennett's out – he has to cover the trenches. Fig's in surgery. With Alex. I look up as the doors start to close and catch Alex emerging from the stairwell. Maybe I'm the one who's flustered and projecting my own feelings onto the slightly reddened face framed by black hair that's just a little messier than it was before she went in there. I see her looking over to where she left us with a crashing patient a few minutes ago, but of course all she'll see is an empty space.

"Page Wash," I call to Bennett and see him take off right as the doors to the elevator finally kiss.

* * *

Author's Note: Hi guys! Please forgive me for the long wait. Sometimes life doesn't go as planned. Or fics for that matter. I had the chapters of the surgeries written up but then I felt bad for leaving Vauseman after the whole confrontation and I just didn't want their first contact after that to be in an OR with an audience. So instead, I did this... and then it kind of snowballed because Laney came to play haha. Now they'll have a whole other kind of tension in the OR. Needless to say, a rewrite of that scene is in the works. I'm having so much fun with this right now. Side characters wreaking all kinds of havoc with our girls *evil grin*

As always, thank you so much for reading and commenting and following this story. You guys are endlessly awesome in sharing the love.

To the reviewers loving Fig - I love her too! She's a great character who is surprisingly underused in fanfiction. And yes, I also get confused when writing scenes with her because do I ship Vauseroa? Lol. She's got so much sex appeal it seeps into everything she says and does. I think I would ship Fig with anything - Fig and a lab coat, Fig and scrubs, Fig and heels, Fig and every human on the face of the earth... I actually missed her in this chapter:(

ps. I FINALLY FINISHED SEASON 5 AND OH MY GOD YOU GUYS


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

"Shit, Jefferson looked pretty spooked back there. I hope whoa…." I've got my hands on Laney's shoulders and have to lock my elbows to hold her back. "What do you think you're doing?" The stairwell door had barely closed behind us before she was on top of me in a flash.

Her shoulders drop with a heavy sigh. "Give me a break, would you?" And her face has just gone from wanting me to wanting to hit me in like one second flat.

"Uh…"

"No, I mean really. I'm beginning to take this personally."

"Okay, wait… you're like five steps in front of me right now. Why don't you back up and tell me what the hell I just missed? We're at work, I'm about to go into surgery, we can't-"

"You back up," she says, giving me a light shove. And together with my knee-jerk reaction to back away from her touch, I find myself pushed right up against the wall. "I'm tired of being led on, Vause." She steps into me and now there's a twinkle of mischief in her big brown eyes. I know where this is coming from… and where it's headed.

My palms are flat and cold against the wall behind me. "Laney-"

"I'm tired of being led down the same road, only to be met with you and your failure to close the deal." Her voice is low. She's so close I can feel her heartbeat on my chest, feel her warmth seeping through my scrubs.

"And this is where you want to close it?" I lift my hands off the wall and grab onto her, closing my fingers on the thin fabric until it meets soft flesh underneath. Her breath instantly catches at my touch.

I know there's a reason I've stopped myself every single time with Laney. I know what – who – the reason is, and that there's no hope for it. The reason wants her career more than anything, including me. It doesn't matter how many times I stand in front of her and think there's a connection...

"I'm not suggesting a quick fuck in a stairwell, if that's what you're asking," she says.

I close my eyes to the feel of her breath on my lips as she speaks. It would be so fucking easy. It _should_ be easy…

"Good, because it's kinda draughty in here." She laughs softly and it makes the corners of her eyes crinkle. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe closing the deal is exactly what I need to shake Piper.

"I like you, Alex. In case you still haven't caught on."

"I'm known to be a little slow sometimes."

She wets her lips, her gaze zeroing in on mine. "Then please, allow me to pick up the slack." It's not the first time she's kissed me, or that I've kissed her back.

Or that I'm thinking about Piper when I do it. Piper and how different she tastes. But it's the first time I think about what it would feel like if she weren't in my head. If she weren't the reason stopping me from going any further.

"I'm gonna be late." Her face looks all giddy and red when I pull away. I don't hate her. I guess that's a good place to start.

"Oh please, it's not like you'll be missing anything. First years are stuck in the back of class." Her fingers rake through my hair before meeting on the back of my neck where they clasp together, holding my face close to hers. "If you even get to see the table it'll be a miracle."

"Yeah well, Fig let me into that OR and she can just as easily freeze me out, you know that." My hands loosen hers so she can have them back. Where she was forceful before, she doesn't put up a fight now.

"Fine, but you're taking me for drinks later."

"Tonight? I don't know what time I-"

"I'll wait." What am I supposed to say to that? "Drinks first, your place second…" Her lips curl into a smile. "And there'll be no backing out this time."

I watch as she makes her way up the stairs, throwing a wink my way before she disappears around the corner of the next flight. Fuck me. The weight of my actions spills out of me in a shaky breath. I have no idea what I'm doing. I have no idea this is even going to work. But how else am I going to survive the next few years here if I don't get it right?

I wrench open the door and it hits me the second I step over the threshold – the charged atmosphere of an emergency. The door softly nudges me in the back as it closes behind me. I don't move. Because there are other people also not moving, talking among themselves, looking like the Chief just died. Cindy's hollering into the phone about clearing an OR and when I look over to where I left Piper, I see she's gone. So is the patient I left her with. I just start to wonder if maybe the guy in the bed was someone they all knew when

"Page Wash."

I turn in the direction of Piper's voice filtering through the general hum in the trenches and nearly get knocked off my feet by Bennett as he comes racing by, yelling at Cindy about Washington. If it wasn't for the wall right beside me I would've wiped out for sure. My brain suddenly cracks open right in the middle of me finding my footing again and hoping everything runs smoothly for her in surgery, because at the same second I remember that I'm supposed to be in surgery too. Fuuuuuck. I burst back into the stairwell, the door swinging wildly behind me as I lunge for the stairs taking two at a time, my stethoscope slamming into my collar bones as it bounces around. Girls. I need to figure out that emotionally dead surgeon thing or I'm fucked.

I stop dead as I reach the third floor. To catch my breath, get my racing heart under control, basically to make it look like I didn't just run like hell to get here. The swing doors that let people in and out of the OR are dead still too. Shit. That can only mean one thing. Nice work, Alex. You have Fig on a silver platter and then you go fuck it up over a girl in a stairwell.

"You just gonna stand there, Doctor?" It's the resident from before. My first patient in a white coat. First death in one too. I push the image of pink newborn baby feet out of my mind. I'm getting better at it. She smiles at me as she walks by, pushing through the swing doors.

I follow immediately, not wanting to waste any more time. If I'm not late yet, I don't wanna change it by standing around here.

The scrub room is empty when I walk in. It's just me and… I can't remember her name. Nicky called her Cherry Lips once but I don't think I'll get away with that. I take up a spot at the basin beside hers, step on the steel lever on the floor that opens the faucet and grab one of the sealed soaps on the shelf in front of us.

"You're shaking," she says, and when I look over at her she's wearing the same smile she gave me out in the hall. A smile that says she knows all about it.

"I guess I am."

"Don't sweat it." Her faucet gushes to life as she steps on her lever to rinse. "First years don't get much game in there."

"So I've heard, but still…"

"I get it." She takes another soap and rips it open. Double scrub? Okay. Good to know. "Doctor Figueroa has that effect on people." She starts soaping up again. I find myself entranced by her method – each finger, between each finger, whole hand, up to the elbow, back down and around… it's hypnotizing. "You'll be fine if you just make sure she can't see or hear you."

"What if she asks me a question?" I shake my freshly rinsed arms and reach for another soap.

"She can't talk to someone who doesn't exist, and once is fine." Her voice stops my hand in midair. "It's not like you'll be touching anything."

"Of course," I try to say it lightly, like I don't care, but the truth is it sucks to be reminded of that all the time. My place as grunt in the pecking order.

"Is that a resident thing?" I point to her scrub cap. It's not plain blue like the one I just pulled from the dispenser but some kind of floral, setting her apart at a glance.

"Nope, it's a Fig thing. Like getting a purple heart or something. She gives you one of these, it means you're part of her crew."

I nod and smile stiffly as she breezes on through the automatic doors leading into the OR without another word. And now I can't think of anything in this world that I want more than that stupid flower scrub cap. I battle to get the last wisps of hair into my generic one, and then realize I should've done that first because now I've gone and contaminated my hands. Shit.

Looking through the window above the row of basins I can see the whole team already in there and waiting. I step on the lever and take a soap to redo the whole process. I can barely make out Fig through the crowd – her scrub cap is decorated with Marvel superheroes. Surprising, but not totally unexpected. There's only one other patterned cap in there. Some guy I don't know. And those three caps – her crew – are the ones closest to the table. So that's how I get to the front of the class. Now I want one even more than I did a minute ago.

* * *

There hasn't been a day in my life that I've ever felt I wasn't tall enough. Until now. I'm so far back I can't see the table even standing on my toes. I quit after my third attempt starts a cramp in my right calf. The theater is quiet at least, which makes it easier to hear Fig through her mask. This isn't a teaching session, so she's not really enunciating to begin with, but I heard her command the ten blade, felt the air change as soon as she made the cut, heard the scalpel drop into the sterile bowl the nurse held out to her and oh my god I'm so bored right now I could scream! Staring into a resident's back with sporadic sightings of Fig's scrub cap opposite her wasn't my idea of how my first big surgery was gonna go. Laney grabs at me from a stairwell a few floors down. Then Piper from in front of a privacy curtain. The first real moment we had in how long, and it was when neither of us were talking. Go figure. And is it just me that feels that connection? Is she really so dead set on her work that she can feel it and ignore it anyway? I can't. I can't ignore it so much it's physically impossible for me to move on. And somehow, hidden in the back of this OR, bored out of my mind, it's suddenly clear what I have to do. I have to hear it from Piper in no uncertain terms that she feels nothing before I walk out of this place tonight. I feel a distinct change in the air around me. It's quieter than before. Has Fig even started yet? I know the chest is open, I'm hearing her say something but again, that mask means I have to strain to grab onto familiar terms. Vause. That's a very familiar term that jumps out at me.

"Where's Vause?" I hear it fully this time.

All of a sudden I have a room full of eyes on me. Even the resident has turned around. What could I possibly have done standing all the way back here not touching or saying or doing anything?

"What are you doing?" Fig asks, raising her voice so it can reach me.

I look around unsure of what to say. I'm doing what I was told to do. Not exist.

"Morello move over." The order makes the resident's head whip back around to look at Fig. Probably out of shock. "Or are you happy for me to go ahead with you in another zip code, Vause?"

My feet start moving before my brain can catch up. Did she just ask me to come over there? To the front of the class? My head isn't any kind of pattern. It's just blue. Have I fallen asleep from sheer boredom and started to dream? No, if this were a dream Piper would be the surgeon calling me over. And she'd be naked. Shut up, Alex. That's the kind of thinking that got you into this mess.

"I said move over," Fig repeats once I get to the table, and Morello grudgingly moves a few steps to her right, putting her beside the patient's head.

I get the chest. I get the fucking chest! I need to throw up. My shaking hands are clamped so tightly behind my back I can feel the circulation slow to a stop.

"What were you doing all the way back there?"

"I uh…"

"Are you afraid the scrub nurse will fall in love with you if you get too close?" Light sniggers fill the quiet around us. I clamp my jaw as I look at her, that stupid smirk visible in her eyes even though her mask is covering the real thing. No, this is definitely not a dream. "Or is it me you're worried about? I must say, I'm having trouble keeping up with your bedroom antics. Attendings, nurses… which is it now?"

I don't respond. Of course I don't fucking respond. Is this why she wanted me up here? So she could humiliate me up close?

"Birch," she says, and the nurse to her left hums her response. "You're one of the good ones. Please, I don't want to lose you to Doctor Vause's animal magnetism." More sniggers.

I don't wanna throw up anymore. I just wanna leave actually. Punch her in the face first. Then leave.

"Oh quit being a baby and wipe that scowl off your face. Look down. That's what you're here for." She wins with that bit. It gets me to pull back the daggers I've been shooting her and I do it, I look down. "Esther's literal broken heart. It's amazing, isn't it?" I nod. It really fucking is. "Good thing she has me here to fix her right up. Pity I can't do anything about the emotional heart or I would've worked my magic on your relationship chaos, Vause."

Seriously? Is this what the next four to six hours are going to be like? I could fake a seizure. I've seen enough of them to get the rhythm down. I should fake a seizure.

"Give me your finger," Fig says out of nowhere and it brings back that scowl she mentioned before.

"You mean besides the one I've been flipping you off with behind my back?" I regret nothing. The sniggers around the theater are louder this time and her eyebrows shoot up in surprise.

"Stand back people – this one bites." I'm pretty sure I can hear a hint of pride in Fig's tone. This woman is easily the most complex human I've ever met. I don't know where to start with her. She holds her hand out to me. "Give it here." I obey, because of course I do.

She grabs my forefinger and guides it down into the chest cavity. I know the warm, squidgy feeling of blood through latex gloves but my heart is hammering anyway. Because I've never had my hand in someone's chest in an OR before and I think I really do need to throw up.

"What do you feel?" she asks.

"Well, it ranges from intense loathing to outright awe. You're a hard one to pin down."

"Okay, okay, comedy minute's over," she says and the renewed chuckling quiets down almost immediately. "Tell me what you feel, smartass."

"A lesion. About half an inch-"

"It doesn't matter how long it is. The fact that it's there at all means I'm going to have to change my approach. Why? And you can have your hand back now."

It's a weird, sad moment when I remove my hand from the heart. "It means a clean resection from the anterior side like you originally planned would be too risky. The added stress on the already weakened artery could lead to-"

"I get it, show-off. Now tell me what to do instead."

I hear a distinct chortle coming from my right. Morello, obviously miffed about being pushed aside, seems to be enjoying having a front row seat to Fig grilling me.

"Excuse me?" I try not to let my previous tone of confidence falter, but it's hard being under so many eyes waiting to see me trip up and fall on my face.

"Take a breath and tell me how I'm going to save Esther's life," Fig rephrases her last statement, keeping her eyes locked on mine and her voice low and steady. Not like the one she was using to make fun of me. This isn't for everyone else to hear, it's just for me.

I meet her stare. It's a powerful thing, the unshifting gaze of a god, but it helps me block out the rest of the OR. "You could perform a retracted-"

"Dead," Fig says so suddenly I practically jump.

Okay, Alex, regroup. "Uh, if you start clipping from the posterior-"

"Dead." She does it again.

"You didn't let me finish."

"Didn't need to. She's dead. What else?"

God! This woman infuriates me! I grit my teeth to keep from actually screaming at her, take a breath, and try again…

"You could locate the feeders and perform a lap-"

"Laparoscopic cauterization?" She actually sounds genuinely interested. Who am I kidding? As long as she didn't shout the word 'dead' over my treatment plan I'm happy.

"If whatever's feeding the mass is blocked off, it will stop growing and die. Injecting it with meds to advance shrinkage will allow for a clean resection with minimal stress on the overall muscle next time you open her up."

"Ballsy." She sounds impressed.

"I got balls for days." This time she's the one laughing. And just like that the pendulum swings back to my favor.

"Yeah well, I've got her open and ready to go so…" She then raises her voice to the theater at large, like an announcement. "Change of plans. I'm going to start clipping from the posterior and work my way-"

"Wait, I said that, and you said she was dead."

"I was just trying to throw you off your game, maybe I over-committed a little. Quit whining and watch the magic, will you? Ten blade."

Birch wordlessly springs to action, grabs Fig's choice from a tray of shimmering instruments and hands it to her. Watching her work, listening to her steadily narrate her way through removing a tumor that's tearing through someone's heart solely for my benefit… I get why Piper wouldn't consider anyone else to have her back with the stand-still. Shit, the stand-still. The second of two major surgeries I get to witness in one day – on the one day I was sure I'd never get to see a surgery for months. That feeling of wanting to throw up comes back stronger than before. Because as exciting as it is, it's just as terrifying thinking about being in that OR with Fig.

And Piper.

And Laney.


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

I watch Fig scrawling away in Esther's chart. I have no memory of leaving the OR, scrubbing out, following the patient down to recovery… but here I am, the adrenalin that was humming through me only now starting to fade. The rush I felt back there has to be a thousand times more intense if you're the one cutting, and yet she gives no sign of it. I envy her clinical calm. People will say it comes with years of training and honing a specific skill but no matter how hard I try, I can't think of Fig as ever having been a messy, emotional, bumbling intern. If I had to guess, I'd say she shot out of med school this way – a god.

"What are we putting her down for?" Her voice comes to fetch me in my drug-like haze and I realize both she and the unit nurse are staring at me.

"Sorry, what?" Here it comes… some snide comeback about not paying attention or whatever. Halfway through day 1 in Fig's service and I'm starting to figure her out.

"Meds… what would your post-op script look like?" she asks. And I blink. I clearly haven't figured out shit.

No underhanded comment? No amusement at my expense? Someone alert security that Fig's been possessed by something that isn't a bitch. They'd wanna crawl the hospital for similar supernatural events. Maybe call a lockdown. And a priest.

"Ruby's waiting to write it up, so whenever you're ready," she pushes again. I notice ownership of the chart now rests with the nurse – Ruby.

"Beta blockers?" I clear my throat after it comes out all weird.

"Are you asking me what they are?"

"No, I know wh-"

"You're asking if we have them?"

"I wasn't asking-"

"Because the inflection in your voice, the way it went up at the end of blockers… That made it sound like a question. Like you have no idea what you're talking about." Ah, there she is. Everyone stand down, Fig is just fine. "Don't do that," she says then, shaking her head impatiently. "Don't ever sound like that unless you mean to."

"Okay." Jesus, was that really necessary? I just got out of a four-hour surgery. Four hours of standing and using my entire brain mass to pay attention.

"So did you mean to?" I shake my head no. "Then do it again." She and Ruby go back to staring at me expectantly.

Now I'm super aware of my voice inflecting correctly, so when I repeat "Beta blockers," it sounds like I'm someone else.

"Why?" she asks with a sigh, rubbing her eyes.

What is her deal?

"Slows the heart, less stress on the healing muscle," I dictate like a rote recitation straight out of a textbook. In fact, I'm pretty sure that's directly out of the textbook.

Fig nods once and it sets Ruby scribbling away beside her, writing up the first entry.

"What else?"

"Uh… Aspirin."

"Really?" she asks, sounding disinterested as she massages the back of her neck. "Do you have a recommendation that can't be given to me by a five-year-old?"

Dick. "Diuretics..." She opens her mouth and I know she's going to demand 'why' again so I jump ahead before she can say it. "…to prevent excess fluid build-up in the chest cavity."

"What else?" And now she's not even trying to hide her irritation anymore. Not that she really was before. But it's starting to feel more and more like I'm a pain in the ass she can't wait to get rid of. "Think about Esther," she adds. "Don't think about every cardiac post-op in the history of medicine." She rolls her head, the bones in her neck cracking, she yawns and then I get it.

She's not irritated with me. I'm not a pain in her ass. She's tired. She just got out of a four-hour surgery that she couldn't just stand and watch but actually had to perform, while still taking time to talk me through it. And yet she's here… doing this with me when she could be catching the break she needs. I guess that makes me the dick.

"I'd hold the Heparin and start her on slow-dose Insulin until she wakes up."

"Why not carry on with Insulin after she wakes up?" Her voice is lighter now. She noticed me trying at least.

"Once she's awake, a controlled diet will replace the slow-dose in regulating her blood-sugar levels. We should encourage her to take solids as soon as possible."

"Thank you," then to Ruby, "Add Propafenone twice daily, starting now."

"Yes Doctor."

"And you-" She turns back to me and I don't know how I could've missed it before. She looks absolutely beat. "-ask a question if you have one, but never question yourself in front of other people because then they'll question you too. You don't want that. And get something to eat – heavy protein. Maybe some OJ. No caffeine," she adds quickly with a wag of her finger.

"What?" I understood everything she said up until the protein part.

"Eat something," she spells it out. "And run somewhere. You'll be stuck in theater again in less than three hours."

My mouth is still open in anticipation of a response that has no intention of ever coming as I watch her walk out of the ward. Give me the bitch who's throwing insults my way and I can handle her just fine. But a nice, normal Fig who's apparently concerned for my wellbeing? Speechless. But I don't take too long to dwell on the rare emergence of Fig as an actual human, because less than three hours. That's how long I have to find Piper and get her to talk to me. No bullshit, just honesty. And then also eat something and run somewhere.

As it happens, I get to start ticking things off my to-do list immediately, using the stairwell to get down to the trenches three floors below. I work harder than I normally would, taking to the stairs in a gallop, so by the time I hit the last flight my pulse is already drumming in my ears. I push through the door that'll take me into the thick of things already feeling like I got a shot of uppers straight to the heart. Amazing what a surge of O2 can do.

"Hey, Vause." I startle a little as Jefferson appears beside me, taking up my quickened pace easily.

"Hey," I offer back distractedly and out of breath. I'm busy scanning the area for Piper and although it's not really busy down here, all the faces swim together in a blur. Must be the O2. Or maybe it's anxiety.

Because although I know I have to do this – I have to get her alone somewhere and talk this out once and for all – I'm kinda terrified. Because what if I'm imagining things and she's just gonna give me the same old story from Saturday?

"You seen Chapman?" Jefferson's eyebrows shoot up. Shit. I forgot she was in on our conversation earlier. And she of course knows the whole deal like everyone else. And she was in Exam 4 with me when Piper showed up, fresh from her session with the Chief. "It's not like that," I lie.

She eyes me suspiciously, not buying it for a second. "I don't think you'll find her down here," she replies evenly, considerate enough to not allude to anything more. "She had a rough time in surgery earlier. Probably shaking it off in HQ if I had to guess."

HQ. That's what they call the surgeon's lounge. For a second I'm aware that I'm always referring to the other interns as 'they', like I'm not part of them. After a second, it's gone because I have to double back, one floor up. This time the elevator will do. I feel a tug on my sleeve as I turn.

"Hold up. Not so fast," Jefferson says, and she doesn't let go even after I fix her with a 'what the hell are you doing' glare. "I'm hearing all kinds of weird shit about you getting to the table with Fig and I need to hear it from your mouth before I believe it." I don't have to answer, because just the thought of that moment makes this stupid smile spread across my face and that's all the answer she needs. "Damn," she says with a slap to my arm. "How the hell did you get that right?"

"Honestly? I have no idea. When it comes to Fig, I don't know anything."

"First this morning, now this." She's walking and talking and I'm following.

Jefferson's solid. So far she's the one person who bothered asking me about something instead of going ahead and believing what she heard around here. I can spare a quick debrief. In fact, I think that's just what I need. The trenches fade behind us as we start down the hall. I have more than enough time to find Piper.

"What happened this morning?"

"When she K.O'd the patient for you in front of all of us." She looks at me flabbergasted. Like how could I possibly forget?

"Oh right."

"Yeah… oh right… teacher's pet." She shoulder-checks me.

"Pet? You didn't see her ride me in that OR."

"Whatever, you've got the Fig in your corner. Something like that helps your rep."

"What rep? I'm nobody. We all are."

"What rep?" she repeats my question with more than a hint of mockery. "Are you being for real right now?"

I follow her into a left turn and now we're in a part of the hospital I don't recognize. A narrow hallway with nothing but a lone vending machine against the left wall. The wall on our right is lined with windows splashing the linoleum floor with dull orange winter sun pouring through them. It's striking to be reminded of the outside world so suddenly. Usually I have to check the time to know how far into the day I am. I see a huge 'Out of Order' sign stuck to the glass when we get to the vending machine. Jefferson stops and slams a flat hand against the side. Something happens inside and then a loud bang from below signals something in the pick-up.

"That's stealing."

"You sound like Soso," she says with a laugh and pulls out a can of Coke. "Want one?"

I remember Fig's orders to stay away from caffeine and shake my head no. "So what happened with the surgery?" I want to ask about Piper and why she needs to hide in HQ, but I need to do it in a way that's not obvious. This seems like a good place to start.

"Shit, I thought it was over for me when he started coding." She cracks the seal on the can and the hiss echoes in the emptiness around us. "But it's one of those fucked up scenarios you don't see coming until it hits you in the face. No-one's really to blame when that happens."

We're still walking and I still have no idea where I'm following her to, but this is a means to an end. The more I know about Piper's demeanor, the better prepared I'll be when I walk into HQ. I listen as she gives me a blow-by-blow account of what happened with the guy – McFaker apparently – right up to the point where Piper lost him on her table.

"Shit."

"Is what I said," she says. "She was pretty messed up when I left her. This way."

We've reached the end of the hall where it splits in two like a T-junction. Jefferson turns to the right and in keeping with the theme of this conversation, I follow. She's still talking, but I can't really focus on any of it after what she told me about Piper. Piper who's obviously dealing with her own personal chaos in the wake of losing a patient she feels she should've saved, and then to have to push it aside for the stand-still in a few hours, where there's a 50/50 chance she'll lose that patient too… How the hell am I supposed to confront her now? What right do I have to ask her to make room for me with everything else going on?

"Hey, Vause." It's Six – Luscheck. He's in a rickety old rocking chair with what looks like a copy of The Intern's Survival Guide open on his lap. I know it at a glance because I got the same one from Nicky and the crew on my last day.

I smile awkwardly and give an even more awkward wave of my hand, because I can't find the word I have to say back… because it's not just him down here. Jefferson's led me into what looks like some kind of grunt hangout. Beside the rocking chair are two gurneys lined up end-to-end, where the other interns are sitting down to a brown bag picnic. The smell of food hangs heavy in the narrow hallway, of which someone's tuna salad is the heaviest of all.

"Welcome to the bunker," Jefferson says. "Want one?" She's holding out a slice of pastrami on wholewheat.

I shake my head stiffly. I know I'm supposed to eat something, but my stomach's in my throat and I'm too busy trying to decide who's gonna jump me first.

"I have tuna." The offer comes from Doggett.

"Hey, you said I could have that," Soso says, pouting.

"Are _you_ the one with a stand-still in a couple hours? I don't think so."

Has this place been theirs from day one? They all look so comfortable. Comfortable with each other. Like a team. And now I'm here and they're offering me food…

"Just take it already," Doggett says, bobbing the bag at me with her arm outstretched.

"Hey, is it true you got to the table with Fig?" Luscheck asks, abandoning his spot in the rocker to get closer to the group. A group I'm apparently a part of.

I nod, words still failing me. Jefferson was right. Fig has somehow managed to change their minds about me.

"For shit's sake, Vause, take the bag!" I swipe for the bag at the same moment Doggett's arm drops. She massages it dramatically, but with a smile.

I've never seen this side of her. Of any of them actually. The conversational, normal people side…

"Thanks," I mumble, my mouth slowly starting to work the way it's supposed to. "And yeah, it was fucking awesome being up there with her," I say, digging into a killer tuna salad on fresh white bread.

And that's what loosens everyone up, because they all start talking at the same time. Asking about the surgery, about Fig's technique, all of it. And then everyone gets a turn to spill about their day so far – something gross that happened, or something horrific, or mindcrushingly boring. Even Soso's a part of it.

"I heard Chapman ripped you a new one," O'Neill says to Jefferson, and the atmosphere shifts immediately as tension builds.

I'm looking at her, but I can feel furtive glances being thrown in my direction. I guess it's gonna take a while before the reflex Chapman-Vause reaction goes away.

"Started to, but then she got more interested in beating herself up. This thing with McFaker hit her hard. You should've seen her in the OR… looked like she was ready to punch something."

"That doesn't sound like Piper." It's out of my mouth before I can check my brain to call her Chapman, and now the looks I'm getting aren't so furtive. Well shit. "I'm just saying… she doesn't get that way."

"You're right," Jefferson says. "But I think it might've been a whole bunch of stuff leading up to that point that just made it worse." And the way she looks at me, it's impossible to miss her meaning. She was there the whole time. Heard our whole conversation. So of course she means me. And Laney there with me… That's what shook the foundation of one of the sturdiest surgeons on call. Shit.

The tension splits wide open as the space we're in starts to echo with the sound of eight pagers going off at the same time. The trenches. First Jefferson waylaying me, now this. It's like the universe is trying to keep me from getting to Piper and it's pulling its best punches.

"Last one there's Caputo's cock fluffer," Luscheck calls over his shoulder as he sets off in a run.

Gurneys clatter and brown paper bags go flying as the rest of us follow.

* * *

Author's Note: Wow you guys, thank you so much for all the amazing comments you've left for this story so far. Each and every one makes me smile:)

I know everyone is waiting for the big surgery and the Vauseman talk but something happened that gave me the opportunity to increase the drama... and I could never say no to more drama! Bear with me. This is going to make it better;)

Oh wait... something just exploded in Chapter 18! Guess I have to go see what that's about:)


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